Go Down To The Lonesome Valley
by Danny Barefoot
Summary: How Rue lived her life, and what it cost her. Even if she can win the 74th Games, does she want to become the Mockingjay? AU, I don't own the Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does, please R & R & enjoy. AN: CHPT 13 updated.
1. A Death

My name is Rue Turner. I lived in District 11, with my folks and sibs and friends. But I can't go back.

–0–

**The Past: Before The Hunger Games**

I was twelve, sneaking home from the fields where I'd lifted a little corn and fruit for my sibs. Hidden by the reedy bank sloping down to the river, I ran into Billy Joe Ewell, heading back from the same kind of jaunt. We startled each other in the moonless night, then laughed about it softly, and lay down by the river, near an apple tree. He asked how were my folks, how were Jim, Holly, Pet, little Albert and the new baby? I asked after his sick Ma and little sisters–I loved how much he cared for them. We chuckled over all kinds of silly things, and I pretended to watch the stars. Waited for his smile to shine in the dark and make my cheeks burn.

Billy Joe was a quiet boy, kind of intense. He'd lost an arm years ago in an automatic cotton gin. At fourteen _they'd_ already whipped him twice in the square for food stealing. His voice was low and calm, that night. All peace, nothing bitter. When he smiled, I wanted to tell him I thought he was the nicest, bravest boy in town. The Reapings were in a week. I could've told him, but I never did.

–0–

I was eleven, trudging home at 3 a.m.–it was harvest, all the kids worked nights in the orchard. Then my friend Martin pulled on my sleeve. He was real simple, but he had a knack for happiness. Even if a dog, a cat, or a lovely-voiced Mockingjay can't talk like you or I, they can truly be the nicest friends. Anyway, we ducked down into a cane break, and he pulled what he wanted to show me out of his pocket. Pushed it at me, grinning. It was one of the night-seeing glasses _they'd_ handed out for apple picking in the dark. The ones _they'd_ told us to hand back each and every morning, because they were worth ten of us together.

I pushed the glasses away, leapt up and ran. Just as Peacekeepers strode out of the gloom, bawling at all the kids to line up. They pulled Martin out, found the glasses he'd been playing with, and shot him dead.

There was screaming and chaos–no grown-up knew whose kid had been shot in the dark. As the Peacekeepers blared through a megaphone that this was what happened to troublemakers, I grabbed hold of my sibs in the crowd. We ran to find our Pa, and he hugged us all warm and tight, thanking the Lord we were safe. As the eldest, I had to wait till last–no one could see my tears.

He was just a nice, simple boy, and I'd run and left him. I could've snatched the glasses, thrown them over a fence, run away with them. Maybe I'd have died, and left my family alone. Maybe poor Martin could've lived. But I can't go back.

–0–

I was nine when my sister Pet was in bed a week with fever. She'd dreamed of eating strawberries one day, so I stole some from _their_ greenhouses by digging under a barbed fence in the night. When my Papa saw us eating them, he dragged me out behind the house, threw the strawberries in the privy, and told me to bend over.

"Pa, no! Why shouldn't we, when we grow all their food–!"

"Quiet, girl!" He threw his big red face from side to side–I realised he was scared, scared anyone might hear me, "The good Lord says it wrong, what you did. _They_ whip you in the square for taking such fancy food, so bad you never climb no tree again."

"But, Pet, she sick, she need food–I don't want her to die like Daisy did, Pa!"

"Just leave those things to me, and your mama. Whatever happens, we gonna get through it as a family. But I'm never letting you get into trouble with _them._ Rue-girl, I couldn't bear to see it…"

"If you and Mama cared if we lived or starved, you'd never have had so many of us!"

My face burnt. I wished I could pull the words back into my mouth, but I couldn't, and Pa threw me over his knee and gave me a dozen of the worst; I howled and howled. All my sibs were really sorry for me, but I couldn't look them in the eye. Couldn't forget I'd almost wished they were never born, but it was only because I loved them. I wished they'd never had to work harvest day and night with fingers bleeding, or live for months on end with hollow stomachs ripe for sickness.

Pet got better, but baby Frank got ill and died just after that. He wasn't even one yet, just older than Daisy had been. I started stealing corn from the fields, so my other five sibs had enough to keep them strong. My parents never knew. Two times a Peacekeeper caught me, but let me go with a beating. I lied and told Mama I'd fallen out a tree.

–0–

When I was seven, I bust my arm falling from an apple tree. I let a little squeal out, before Jim and Holly dropped down round me, and I had to clam up in front of my sibs. I stared through my own teary little fog, searching across the meadow for Mama and Pa. He was struggling with another two workers, wanting to run and hold me–but if _they_ caught him stopping work, he'd surely get punished. Mama was stood still, watching and waiting for me to get up.

"Rue! Sis!"

Jim and Holly were blubbing, alone in the harsh sun of that terrible great orchard, with their big sister fallen. I managed to smile up at them, and got to my knees before passing out.

My head went swimmy and hot, even thinking about the next apple harvest–but _they_ said I had to work and pick the apples. All the kids in District 11 had to. So did Holly and Jim, and they were afraid. I had to shim up the tallest trees, the longest branches, stay higher for longer than anybody, so they wouldn't be.

Of course I loved it up there, in the cool air with next to nothing between me and the sky. I could leap from branch to branch, just to feel the rush of breath like flying. Or rest in the top branches, on the sharp-smelling bark as warm as my Grandma's cheek. I could watch all the sparrows and Mockingjays flit through air so rich with apple-scent they were almost swimming. Hear all the faint, low songs from the pickers in the golden fields below us. Songs to keep our hearts alive, even when there was nothing for them to do but break. Songs like a good spirit in your breath. When I sang the Mockingjays listened and all the fieldhands found weary grins. My Pa always said, I should never let nothing in this world stop me from being happy, doing good and trusting the good Lord to take care of us all.

So I learnt to climb higher than any kid in the District, so all my sibs would be happy to have such a sister. I helped Holly to the clinic when she twisted her leg. I slipped all of them apples to make their quota up, and told Jim I'd tan his hides if I caught him stealing. I got them all singing to take their minds off it, when we'd got no food at all. Whenever Pet was ill, I sat up with her all night. I helped Mama nurse Daisy and Frank, though they both of them still died. I climbed high, and I learnt a lot about falling down.

* * *

><p><strong>The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day One <strong>

I couldn't go back. Not trapped in that roaring prison of a hovercraft, left arm hurting from the tracer. Headed to the Hunger Games. I couldn't flee in my mind to dreams of home and sunshine. I knew I had to be _here_, in those straps. I had to keep watch, keep ready, run, climb, hide. Stay alive until everyone else was dead, and then I could…

Go back, go home. But I couldn't hardly imagine it. There were so many tears when I left them behind. Pa, Mama, Billy Joe, Grandma and all my sibs. It's almost, _almost_ certain that I'll never see their darling smiles again. I glanced over the shaking aisle to where the Girl on Fire was strapped in. I tried to smile, but she stared straight ahead, not seeing me. I wished then that we could've been friends, if only we'd met some other way. But she didn't look too friendly right then. Just strong and fierce. Like a Victor.

Thresh looked even less friendly than Katniss did. Other kids on the hovercraft looked like they were scared, and trying not to show. I'm almost sick from wanting home, but I'm not so scared. I've known I could be shot or crippled with a lash tomorrow, since I was nine. I still sneaked and stole, so my sisters and brothers could live. For them, I couldn't ever be scared. And I'd not ever died yet, so why start now?

Maybe they were taking us somewhere with trees. I could hop up there, and be still among the leaves, with the warm bark on my hands and my cheek. That wouldn't be so bad a place to end. Then the Lord would carry me up to heaven on his wings, with Daisy, Frank and Grandpa. I could dream of my home forever, there'd be nothing to make me afraid. Nowhere higher to climb. Nothing to do at all.

I almost screamed out, I hated that hovercraft seat with the straps so much. They were pinning me when I wanted to jump right up and run for dear life.

* * *

><p><strong>74th Hunger Games: Day Nine<strong>

Katniss's plan was that I set three green-wood fires, to draw the Careers from their camp, so she could destroy their supplies. But they must've smelled a rat. Running through the woods to light the third fire, I heard crunching leaves as they came. I had to shim up the nearest yew tree quick as a squirrel. I stayed mousy still and quiet, but they found some tracks I'd left. Then they circled round below with their shining weapons, and finally saw me. That Clove was just about to sling a knife at my head, when the blast went off. All the Careers rushed back to their camp, but I just curled up in those branches, weeping with my hands on my ears.

Only the Games-people could make a bang like that. It wasn't enough that my Katniss was the bravest, lovingest girl in the nation. They couldn't let an uppity pauper from Twelve win their stupid Games. Maybe a richer District bribed them, but now Katniss was dead. I'd never see her again, not even her body. With a blast like that there'd be nothing left–I didn't care who heard me howling.

I'd started the Games ready to hide away and await the end–I could stand being alone, at first. When I saw Katniss again she was injured and trapped up an oak alone, but she was fighting. Fire, arrows or poison couldn't stop her. And I knew she was kind, however tough she looked. Just as quick-in-spirit and gracious as the Mockingjays that flitted about when I sang for them in the orchards–like the golden pin on her shirt. A big sister cares for her little sib with all the love she's got, I can swear to that. Katniss gave me all that love and strength, but now it was gone. I couldn't ever go back; it was so impossible I could hardly think how my home or family existed. There was nothing but the Games, killing and choking all else to leave everyone alone in the dark. I felt so alone that night I didn't care whether I lived or died.

–0–

I stayed curled in that tree until the night, when the anthem played, and the dead faces came up in the sky. I could hardly believe that her face wasn't there. Thank the Lord, she was alive! But I knew Katniss could be in trouble, I couldn't lead anyone to wherever she was. I just had time to shift hiding places, jumping between branches to a nearby oak, before the Careers came back to prowl round for me some more. I stayed up the tree all night, heart hammering through my chest. In the morning I waited half an hour after all of them gave up and cleared out. Then I edged down the oak, ready to whistle the signal to Katniss that I was safe.

But those Careers weren't so dumb. One of them had crept back and hidden himself, waiting for me to break cover. I might've seen a glint of steel in the bushes, before fear shot through me like a bird–I leapt away from the tree trunk, hit the ground. A net was sailing past the oak at me, too wide to dodge, but it caught on a branch, then I was running and screaming Katniss's name.

It happened so fast. I flew through the wood, with him crashing after in long-leg bounds. Then the arrow hit his back, I threw myself down. His dying, wild spear-cast shot over my head and quivered in an oak.

"Rue! Are you safe–?"

"Yes, I'm okay! Oh Katniss, you're–"

I was too weak to get up as Katniss ran to me. She'd shot the Career, the tall District One boy, from near to seventy metres through the trees. She held me with all the strength in her arms, choked out her little sister's name. I was going to tell her how scared I'd been without her, when our bodies jerked. The District One Career had raised himself up without a sound, buried his knife in her back.

He groaned, fell on top of us both. After I struggled out from under, I pulled the arrow from his back. Drove it so hard through his neck, I cut my own hand.

"KATNISS!"


	2. A Reaping

**74th Hunger Games: Day Nine**

The hole in Katniss's back bled like a stinking river. Rolling that dead Career off her, I fumbled for bandages in his pack. Tried to bind them round her, but they just got soaked in red, along with both my hands. I tied another dressing over it, and another.

"Stop it, Rue." Katniss grasped my wrist, "No good." There was blood on her lips, as she slumped to the ground. I seized her hand in mine, eyes wild.

"No, Katniss! What do I do? Don't leave me alone."

"Just stay with me…like this." A weak grin, "I got the supplies."

"I heard." I squeezed with bloody hands, sobs breaking my face apart. "I'm so sorry, Katniss..."

"Don't. Prim…no, Rue. You have to win. Stay hidden–"

"I can't! What about that boy you like? He's hurt. I'll find him, protect him, for you–"

"No. Only one winner, Rue. Look after yourself. Peeta…oh Peeta."

"Katniss don't cry! You're strong, you don't cry!"

"Yeah. Had to be strong, for Prim. Even for mother. Hunting, haggling, raging at everyone…I did whatever I could do. Can't do it now." Tears ran down Katniss' whitening face, "Oh, Prim, what'll you do? Peeta…Rue, I'm sorry…"

"Shh. They're safe, Katniss. And you'll be…"

I stopped, swallowed miserably. Then I looked in her dark eyes and began to sing. It was an old lullaby Mama would sing to us when we all went hungry to bed.

_"Hush little baby, do not cry,_

_You know your Mama was born to die._

_All my trials, Lord, soon be over._

_All my trials, Lord, soon be over…"_

"Lord…?" Katniss murmured. I gripped her hand, and sang through the tears.

"_The river of Jordan is muddy and cold,_

_Well, it chills the body, but not the soul._

_All my trials, Lord, soon be over…_

_The river of Jordan is raging and wide,_

_But I'll see you again on the other side._

_All my trials, Lord, soon be over…_

_Too late, my dear sister._

_Too late, but…never mind._

_All my trials, Lord, soon be over._

_All my trials, Lord, soon be over…"_

The tears stopped as she died, and a little smile broke through. Her trials on earth were over forever–but I know she didn't care one bit about her own troubles. Just about the ones she left behind. Whether I lived or I died, my trials wouldn't last so long. She smiled for that; it was the only comfort I had in the world.

Trees loomed round me like towers of shadow, impossible to climb, as I squeezed her hand again. I had to get up, protect Peeta, stay alive, Katniss had told me to, died so I could live–but I couldn't do it. She'd been my hope through all the loneliness of the Games, my sister and more than a friend. I was too tired to move from her side, too scared to face any more horrors alone. I was going to stay alone by Katniss' body, until she came back to me or I went where she was.

* * *

><p><strong>The Past. Reaping Day<strong>.

Near to everyone in District 11 was pouring into the square in their Sunday best. I was old enough for Pa not to hold my hand all the way, in my opinion. But he just wouldn't let go. He was wearing his old dark suit that had got too small. Mama had her best autumn red dress; her dark face was worn raw, but she still looked tough. Among all the parent leading their children to the Reaping, a fair number were white and dark-skinned, like mine. Holly was wearing my old yellow dress; I had a lovely white dress with red print carnations.

"Sis, if you do get picked, what happens–?"

"Shush, Pet. I won't." Two names in hundreds of thousands (I'd got just one single Tesserae, for the new baby). Not point in worrying, whatever happened.

"Jim, spit." My brother duly spat on a hankie for Mama to scrub his face, "How do you get dirty so quick? What would everybody have thought?"

"Good morning, Mister and Missus Turner. And good morning to you, little Rue."

"Morning, Rue Turner! Nice dress you've got there."

I smiled back at all the folk passing by and greeting us. Since I would signal quitting time from the highest apple tree, with amy little whistle my Mockingjay friends carried all over the fields, I guess folk were often pleased to see me. Or maybe just giving a real happy smile whenever you can does a lot for everyone's spirits. Though it's really a little enough thing.

"Hey, Rue!" My best friend Jess nervously hugged me. Pa finally let go of me, as I hugged him goodbye. Then we went to line up, got our fingers pricked, and milled through the crowd of girls in faded dresses to the standing area.

"Well…this is a bit exciting." My friend Ginny; blonde and not real bright, "If you win the games, there's a huge prize. I don't know...but if I did volunteer, and, and win, we could get better medicine for Grandpa. Fix the leaks in our roof..."

"And if you asked out Gus Adams, he'd surely say yes," I whispered; she squealed in delight, "Of course, no one would be pleased if you volunteered to get killed." Ginny buttoned up, suitably chastised.

"Maybe I'll volunteer this year." It was Wilma, an older girl stood aside from us, "Arena can't be worse than here."

Wilma's right eye was grey, the brow above squashed in. Her father had done that; he was a no-good drunk who got drunk enough one day to boast about being a rat for them–a spy who turns in thieves and slack workers. Just after that, Wilma's dad got found accidently drowned one morning in a shallow brook. But no one ever spoke to Wilma or her Mama. Rats are the lowest scum in District 11, and their families get treated the same.

I strode over to Wilma, and put my arms round her waist, "Don't talk that way. Your Mama would be sad if you weren't there, and so would I. Don't talk about volunteering." I threw an arm round Jess's shoulders as well, and glanced back at the others, "Come on, girls. If we've got to stand together, let's _stand together_."

In a cloud of fine dust from the square, all us packed ourselves into the space for twelve year old girls–every year's Reaping heralds a general plague of measles and hair-nits. I caught sight of Billy Joe in his section, and tried to catch his eye, but he was staring straight ahead. I realised I was actually pretty tense.

On the stage before the vast crowd stood Mr Glick from the Capitol. For all that, he was a tubby old man of sixty, with a whitewashed face, and plucked eyebrows. He looked like he hated doing his job, so I thought he couldn't be that bad. Behind him on the wooden stage were Mr Chaff, Mrs Seeder and Mr Bunker, who's nearly eighty; he'd quietly fallen asleep. The Mayor had finished reading the Treaty of Treason. It would be over soon.

"Alright, let's get this over with." Mr Glick scrabbled round the girls' Reaping Ball, squinted at the name. "Rue Turner."

The girls around me fell away so sudden, I could barely keep on my feet. Just stumble out, stare up at that stage.–I was falling and I didn't know how to stop.

"Come on, girl! Get up here." Peacekeepers started coming from all round the square. I dashed up to the stage, and stood shivering in my cotton sunfrock with red print carnations. "Any volunteers?"

Ten thousand folk stood before the stage, staring up at me. I stared back, and not one met my eyes. Jess, Wilma and Ginny almost did, but they broke off in time, gazing off into thin air in agony. The only sound was my baby sister crying.

I kept staring with wide eyes, trying to make them see, I didn't understand. It was two names, I shouldn't have come out, I didn't want to go, there had to be someone...

"Not anyone?" Mr Glick and I might've been alone in the square, "Come, come, no one to take the place of this child? I'm shocked!"

Mr Glick was grinning sourly. I realised then, he didn't hate his job. He hated us, the poor and classless District he'd worked with for fifteen years. He wanted to make my District ashamed, for letting me go without sending another child to her death.

I glared at my friends then, to tell them not to volunteer and give in to his mocking. They were children too, with sweethearts, and families...

I finally looked at my family. The baby was howling. Mama was shushing Pet as she asked again, what did it mean? Pa had his eyes closed, praying to God for someone to volunteer.

"No volunteer. What a shame." Mr Glick sauntered to the boys' names, picked without ceremony, "Thresh Robinson."

A huge boy walked up to the stage, slowly, but heading straight there. Hard, silent eyes, built like an oak tree. Now, the crowd broke into whispers. Maybe this boy could win District 11 a happy year. Maybe God had sent the boy Tribute this year, to make up for the horrible experience they'd had with the girl…

(I could understand them not volunteering. In the Games last year, a sixteen-year old girl from District 11 had gone through something unmentionable that a twelve-year old wasn't in so much danger of)

"That's it then. Odds in your favour etcetera, now shake hands, get inside." Mr Glick had already minced off the stage as Thresh stuck out his paw; he almost blocked out the sun for me. I carefully put my hand in his, took it back quick. The Mayor shook Thresh's hand as well; he wouldn't look at my face.

–0–

Then the Peacekeepers did come for me. I shook like a captured bird as they hustled me into the Justice Building, a wooden room with old chairs and barred windows. It was ten minutes before they let my family pour in.

"Rue, what's going to happen to you?" Pet almost moaned. Holly, who was older, just held me. Jim and Albert stared at me. Mama and Papa weren't crying; they just looked solemn and strong because they had to. like I had to smile for Pet, like I wasn't scared or sad one bit.

"Pet, honey…I'm going away for a while, to the Capitol. You're going to see me on Tee-Vee, with all the Tee-Vee people, and I'll try to come back, soon as I can…"

"No!" Pet threw her skinny arms around Holly and me.

"Sis!" Jim got out, "We don't want you to go."

"I'm sorry, but I've got to. The Capitol…I'm sorry." I tried to print their dear faces on my mind; tried to keep my voice level and strong, "Holly, you help Mama look after the others, until I come back. Jim, you'll have to help her…be strong, ok? All of you be good to Mama and Pa." heads bobbed on a sea of tears."Holly...don't go stealing food like I was always doing, or something bad'll happen to you like this..." I couldn't talk any more, I could barely smile. I hoped Holly could see how sorry I was for stealing, for going against my own folks and giving them grief. But I didn't think she'd keep from stealing food if Pet and the baby needed it. There's just no hope for any of us.

Mama gave us another minute to hold each other. Then she gave the baby to Holly, knelt on the floor in her best red dress and put her hands on my shoulders.. Her worn, dark face looked angry.

"Ma, I'm sorry, I–"

"Rue, stealing or anything, you know we forgive you!" Pa burst out. Mama gave him a quick look, and he fell silent.

"Rue…your father and I did our best to raise you right. We want you to come home to us, very much. But, if the Capitol people tell you that doing anything disgraceful, or plain wrong, will help you survive, don't mind them. Don't trust those godless folk from other Districts, or even that Thresh, I'm sure they'll do anything to save themselves. If someone's going to hurt you, then run and hide as well as you can. Don't try to fight or hurt anyone. Understood?"

"But, what if…they attack me first, or…?"

"You're not listening, girl! If you hide away until everyone else is gone, you could win, and come home safe. But if you forget what's right or wrong, and lose your soul, that's worse than being dead." I must've looked terribly scared, "Oh, Rue. Me and your father will love you, whatever happens."

We hugged quickly, broke away. Pa held my hand, and told me, stay safe; all he could manage. The Peacekeeper on the door rapped out time.

"Pa, I love you, and everybody! Tell Jess, Ginny all my friends, I don't blame them not volunteering. I love them too, they deserve better. Tell them I want to see them one more time–"

"No more visitors!" The guard barked, "Your escort wants to set off early. All of you, get out!"

There was a chaos of wailing, stretching arms and curse-words before three Peacekeepers hauled my family out of the room, slammed and locked the door. Maybe my friends tried to come to me, but none got through. I had a long fifteen minutes curled up on the floor of that cage, before they marched me out and put me on the train.

It was loneliness that was the shock. All the folk who'd shown their care for me every day had been stripped away that second, like losing my own skin. Or if all the pressure of air in that baking little room had drained out into nothing.

That huge boy Thresh would have to kill me to see his family ever again. He'd looked on me with the same closed-up face as everybody in the District when I stood on that stage. All my life, they'd only given me smiles. Now I'd never have a smile from them again. I'd said I'd see my family again, but I'd lied. the longing for them was like barbed wire in my chest, but it wouldn't go away, I'd never see them again before I was dead. I had to go away, and run, hide, die like this alone, without another smile of love again, because there was nothing in the Games but death.

* * *

><p><strong>The Present: 74th Hunger Games: Day Nine<strong>

I knelt beside Katniss for at least an hour. I'd never see her smile again, but I wouldn't look away from her face, and see the boy that I'd stabbed to death for killing her. She was gone, my family lost, I felt like God Himself was lost, it was so hard for me to pray. No one left I could hope or fight for. No one to help me...

The click made my head flick about, fast as any bird. A little silver container with a parachute had just dropped onto a rock. Distractedly, I reached out and pulled the packet open.

It was bread, warm under my fingers. The type we have at home. I wolfed it down in hunger and it warmed my insides. My family weren't gone, nor was District 11. I'd forgotten they were watching and caring for me, waiting for me to come home–or maybe just keep living, for them. I felt just about alive enough to go on moving.

I shut Katniss's eyes, and found a spring of rosemary to put in her clasped hands. They I knelt and prayed, quiet as I could.

"Dear Lord, thank you I was friends with Katniss. Please help me stay alive now. Please keep Katniss safe in your heaven. Look after her sister and Mama, please. And please protect Peeta, so he can win these Games and go home to them. In Jesus name, Amen"

I gathered all the packs and weapons, and one more little thing, then scurried away. The body pick-up hovercraft roared in behind me with its lights. I knew what I had to do. I had to find Thresh.


	3. A Friend

**The Past. 74th Hunger Games: Training**

"Hey? Thresh?"

I knocked at his room again, until he opened up. Then I stared at his big, still face, shivering in the corridor, in a soft Capitol nightdress. It was my first night in the Training Centre. First night sleeping in the Capitol.

"What?"

"I...I was scared. I've got brothers and sisters, so I never….slept in a bed on my own before."

He'd barely spoken on the train. Then the Stylists had prodded, picked at, pampered and hair-pulled us all day in a frantic rush. I felt sick as a twister, but Thresh showed all the feeling or weakness of a rock. I had to stand there and search his face, before I saw muscles underneath tensing with bitter sorrow.

His room was fresh and white as every room on our floor. He bundled me into an untouched bed, without looking. Then he slumped in a chair.

"Too soft for sleeping." He muttered, staring out the giant window. We were up so high, the lights stretched through miles of darkness. It would've felt like flying, if we'd been free.

I tried to sleep. Then I trotted over to Thresh, wrapped in the bed sheets. I sat in the chair with him, resting on his chest.

"It was too cold. I'm still scared…please?"

With a sigh, he put his arms round me, warm and solid with strength, "Please yourself."

I sighed back. I'd never been so close to a real Boy, but I felt quite peaceful. My own Mama had told me to not trust Thresh, but I'd been alone all day, with Capitol folk chattering in careless voices, staring like I was a bird in a cage. Living alone without trusting, in that weird, glaring world, until it rushed me to my death–it was too bad for me ever to bear

"Oh Thresh. What're you…going to do?"

"In the Games? Try my best to not play them."

He was staring at the dark city of lights in the window–I still felt safe, but didn't dare ask him anything else. Pa always told me to comfort anyone suffering. Anger was clear in Thresh's eyes now. He was suffering like me.

"Thresh? Thank you."

Used to tough beds, we were soon both asleep.

–0–

The next evening, Mrs Seeder and Mr Chaff got us watching old Hunger Games. We'd seen live Games every year, but watching them there scared me more. Mrs Seeder tried to hold me, but I didn't like her. Mr Chaff smelt of so much booze, I wouldn't go near him. So I snuggled against Thresh, as we watched all the death and betraying. Like the night before, he didn't speak much, or push me away. I could sleep on my own that night.

The evenings after that, Thresh started practise-fighting with Mr Chaff. I just heard lots of crashing as Mrs Seeder and me talked in another room. I got to like her a bit. She was kind, just very harsh about it.

"Nobody's won the Games without killing for almost fifty years. The Gamemakers always use mutts or hazards to flush out anyone who does nothing but hide. Yes, Rue, it is unfair. But making friends can be a bigger talent than hiding. You could find a strong ally for protection." Katniss's face flashed in my mind–but somehow I was too nervous to say.

"What about Thresh? He's my District partner, he's strong…"

"True, but he draws attention, and you'll still be needing to hide. Besides, could you kill him at the end?"

"Mrs Seeder, I could never do that."

"Then let yourself be killed so they can win. Just remember that your family will be watching you die. Those are the choices, if you want to ally with anyone, Rue. Think about it."

Thresh still didn't talk, or not to me; we certainly never did the same kinds of training. Somehow his looks got even more silent with passing days.

–0–

The evening after interviews, we took the lift up to our floor; Thresh headed for his room. I went after him, hung on his shirt.

"Thresh, I feel worse than the first night, I can hardly breathe. Please can I sleep with you, once more…?"

He pushed me away. I stared at his giant back, wide-eyed.

"No. You be strong, girl."

"I…can't. I could be strong for my sibs, even for that stupid interview…but what can I do? What can I do, so I don't die? Thresh, I want to–"

"Tomorrow, I gonna run far as I can. Find a place I can defend, and stay there. You better run the other way, Rue. After that, I hope we never see each other alive again!"

He roared out the last words; his eyes were the most fearful thing I'd seen. He was a Tribute. Tomorrow, we were going to the arena, all to kill each other. I ran for my room, threw myself on the great empty bed.

I'd never caught Mama crying; I'd guessed she'd had to cry her tears away. That night I made a start on crying all my weakness out.

* * *

><p><strong>The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 11<strong>

The cornfield stalks were twice again as tall as me, and all kinds of lovely colours. It was like the cornfields at home without the work, a perfect place to lay down and rest forever. But I had to keep going. I pushed through the thick corn, not trying to be quiet. Soon I reached a cleared space around a big stone. Someone had sat against it, he wasn't there now.

"Hey? Thresh?" The corn rustled behind me, like wind, "Just let me talk..."

"Better run, girl."

He could be lynx-quiet. The voice was flat, but I didn't dare turn around.

"Seems you're doing well. You can get food from the corn. You can hear anybody coming, and get behind them. You must have water, if you're still alive. But you need weapons, don't you?"

"Don't tell me what I need."

"I will tell you, there's a spear, a big knife and a bow with arrows, hidden under leaves and earth, about a mile south-east of here. There's twigs nearby in the shape of a bird."

"...for that, I let you go, this time. Now get."

"Don't you want to know how I killed three Careers to get those weapons?"

"Lying."

"No. I killed them with Katniss, the girl from Twelve. We were allies. I showed her she could drop a Tracker-Jacker nest on two of them. Then I used the leaves to cure her stings. She shared meat with me. We slept with each other, two nights. And we blew up all the supplies at the Cornucopia–you must've heard that. That's what allies can do. But then Katniss...it was the Career from One. I killed him, but I couldn't save her.

"With Allies, or without...I don't think I've got much hope. I don't much want to survive with what I've done and seen. But I don't want you to die. I want to help you survive–I want to be with you, Thresh. How about it? You...were kind to me before."

"If the two of us were left. Then what?"

"I told you, I don't want–"

"Don't you say that! SHUT UP!" His hands gripped me, spun me to look him in the face. "I told you not to follow, and you still came! I told you already, I got no help I can give!" His eye blazed against his hollowed face as he shoved me down to the ground. Even Cato hadn't looked so fearful. "Now, get out of my sight! GET!"

I got my breath, and stood up.

"You can't scare me away, Thresh Robinson. Nowhere else I can go. I want to help you go home, whatever happens to me. I don't care if you beat me, use me–"

"–kill you?" Thresh's anguish was a rictus plain on his face, "I could do it. And how I could ever go home, when I'd killed a little girl?"

"You'd be crueller to send me away than kill me right now; after the Tracker-Jackers, they might not kill me quick."

"Do I even have a choice?"

"…that's what you wanted, right? Not to play their Game for them, to be your own man? Well, I made my choice, and I can tell you, it's _hard_. Takes more strength than hiding up a tree, or in a field…Thresh, I'm sorry. Please?"

He glared at me, but I stood and stared back, on the edge of tears. For long minutes, Thresh stared up through the forcefield a mile above us, at the free blue sky. Then he looked back and his eyes were calm as I'd ever seen.

"Okay, Miss Rue. You got yourself a friend, that's a promise. Only I'm not fighting to win this Game, not ever. And sorry for yelling, and pushing you, I shouldn't ever have–"

I went up and hugged Thresh like I had to keep from falling.

"Don't worry. Doesn't God say we should forgive each other?"

"Yeah. And He say we should help each other. I'm sorry, Rue."

He knelt down and put his arms round me. They felt so strong, I went warm all over, with my heart singing away inside.

–0–

Me and Thresh walked quickly through the woods. He found the weapons and pulled them out, whistling softly. I looked away. Now came the hard bit.

"We should get to the riverbank–"

"Rue, I can't climb no trees. Cornfield's safest for both of us."

"Thresh, I found Peeta Mellark by the river yesterday–the Twelve boy? He's our ally too, though he's hurt, too bad to move to the cornfield yet–"

"_What?_" Thresh shot up, towering over me again, "You sly little skunk, you never told me! I'll said I protect you, but what's Twelve to me?"

"Katniss…liked him, and she saved me. And he's hurt. I want to help him, and if you don't, you can leave me for the Careers!"

"Oh no. I promise I protect you, and the Twelve boy is danger. You coming with me, if I gotta drag you on a rope!"

As his hand went for my collar, I turned around and ran.


	4. A love

**The Present. 74th Hunger Games: day 11**

I'd been ready to run but Thresh would've caught me, if he hadn't stumbled in a drift of leaves. Halfway up a tree, he snatched at my feet. I kicked down at his head, and scrambled up to a broad, high branch, out of his reach.

"Sorry! You okay there?" I called down.

"Reckon I'll live." Thresh glared up at me, rubbing his forehead. "But we both die, protecting some crippled Twelve! Chaff and Seeder said it. We let anything slow us, we lose!"

"Well, win or lose, I'm going to help anyone I can who needs it, just like what was right back home. You say God tells us to help each other. Well, He don't just live in Eleven–!"

"Quiet there!"

I nearly choked on my tongue. Steps rustled in the silence, not so distant. Nocking an arrow to Katniss's bow, Thresh sent a steadying look my way that made me feel rather warm. Then he stole off through some thickets, not too quietly.

I hid there nearly an hour. There was one distant thunk, as an arrow split wood. But no cannon, no fighting. if Clove and Cato were ever near, Thresh must've drawn them away. But I was still pretty scared, until the Mockingjays sounded out my quitting-time tune. They'd picking up Thresh's 'okay' signal, from the cornfield's edge. Through all the air above, the rich notes unrolled like a banner–Thresh was safe.

I sang out the same tune, and the Mockingjays all sang out once again, like a crowd of friends wanting to lift my heart to the sky. I couldn't ever belt out a joyful song in that forest Arena, not when I had to hide or die every day. But I felt so happy to be friends with Thresh again, holding my song inside me almost hurt. So I took out the most precious thing I had and fixed it to my jacket. For Katniss' sake, for all my friends' sake, I would fight my own way, for all of us. With her Mockingjay pin to say why I still lived and who I fought for.

"Hey there," I whispered to a little Mockingjay, pecking a branch above me, "Could you fly away to District 11 for me? Tell Thresh's family how he is, what he's doing for me. Tell my folks I love them. And tell them joy is so strong, even the Games can't kill it easy." My new friend tilted his head to listen. Then he flitted off, as a sponsor package dropped between the branches.

–0–

As I slipped back through the tree canopy to where Peeta was at, I felt real edgy, like someone was watching close by. I dropped a bundle behind me, not looking too deliberate or too careless. There was some cold grousling and berries in there, as well as some important things I won't say about just now. But I kept heading on to the river. I sneaked down to the cave where I'd dragged Peeta before, and unhid the opening carefully.

"Heya. I'm home." I gave Peeta a big smile. From the sleeping bag in back, the blonde boy looked up with dark-rimmed eyes. He saw Katniss's pin on my chest, but didn't say anything.

"Rue. You were gone too long. I'm really glad you're safe." But he didn't sound like he could be glad about anything.

"I had to hide on the way back. I gave Thresh the weapons, and I think he's with us now." Peeta nodded, not asking where Thresh was. Since he'd seen his sweetheart gone up in the sky, the poor boy hadn't shown he cared much about anything. Not even the leg wound, that was sapping his body's life, as sure as his grief.

I changed his dressings, smiling and telling him he had to fight, like I think Katniss would've done. I fed him the broth from the Sponsor package, and tried to talk about the interviews with our families, or his friends back home, but he didn't say much. Then I went out and came back with some edible plants; we'd both ate enough to stay alive, but not by much. As I heated up a nettle and mugwort stew with rocks from the sunny riverbank, I sang quietly;

_All good things around us,_

_Are sent from heaven above,_

_And thank the Lord, Oh, thank the Lord,_

_For all his love…_

"You've got a beautiful voice, Rue. What's that song about?" Peeta muttered thickly. I felt happy just to hear him.

"It's about God. He made all the good things in the world, and shows he cares for us that way, like a Father, whatever happens."

"That's how you can still be cheerful, right?"

"Because I got to be. It ain't easy, but God helps. Especially singing about Him."

"Oh….maybe that's why Katniss couldn't be happy. She always got angry first."

"No! Katniss wasn't unhappy! We were happy together, why was she sad…?"

As he propped himself up, Peeta's face was sour milk, "Sorry, Katniss wouldn't have talked about the past. I guess I've just had nothing else to think on for days, I shouldn't…"

"Tell me!"

"Her father died in a mine explosion when she was eleven. Her mother didn't cope very well, so Katniss supported herself and her sister for five years. She was alone, so she had to be strong as oak, and rely on herself. She never relied on anyone else. She was a brave, beautiful spirit. But she could barely let her heart open up to anybody, before…Rue, if Katniss was happy with you, before the end, then _thank you_–"

I threw myself at Peeta. I couldn't do anything some while but cry in his arms like a baby.

"Oh, Katniss! Oh Peeta, you really loved her, didn't you?"

"Since I was five. " his tears were silent, trailing down his dirty face. "I'd have given all my limbs to save her."

"I'm so sorry...when'd you know you loved her? Think how she was, just then."

"First day of school. She was a little girl with two braids. She sang the Willow Song in class, the Mockingjays stopped to listen, I was gone. She just had the voice of a pure soul, as if nothing in the whole world could break her or stop her singing."

"I think she was always singing, but it was silent. A song of strength and love...her love was like fire, and it spread me like a true burning life. Oh, we couldn't ever have helped loving her."

"But I never did anything that mattered, all those years. I never made her happy! I could never tell her–!"

"You told the whole nation you loved her!"

"But she didn't believe me!" Peeta fell back, helpless regret twisting his face, "She thought I was looking for Sponsors."

I hoped everyone in the Capitol was dying from shame, as I searched for an answer.

"Peeta…my Mama always said how girls shouldn't fall in love so quick. They want to let their boy come after them, and prove he's really in love. And you proved it, you got this wound saving Katniss from the Careers! I should've told you already...before she went, she said your name."

(I'd left some things out, and never really believed my Mama on boys–I'd always dreamed of being swept away with passion. But I had to say something to comfort him).

Peeta turned away. Then he squeezed my hand, stared back right in my eyes.

"When I was reaped, I decided something, Rue. I'd do something to show them who I was, and that they can't control me. Even if they kill me. I'll help you win the Hunger Games, Rue, for Katniss."

"For Katniss."

Peeta finally showed his old smile, as fire seemed to roar in my chest. I was fighting for Katniss, in her place. I was fighting beside the boy who'd loved her. His pale face was so perfectly-shaped, and his eyes were so kind. So blue like cooling waters. I was so close I nearly kissed him, but a deep cough made me spring back. Thresh was crouched in the cave mouth, looking like a big bear in the dusk.

"Thresh–!" Then I saw the knife in his hand, the big one that curved the wrong way. Peeta tried dragging himself in front of me, as Thresh edged towards us.

"Don't worry, Rue. Here to keep you safe. Heard Twelve say he would too–but tell me why I should believe you." He'd turned his gaze on Peeta, "She ain't your sweetheart. Ain't even your district partner."

"She's twelve. I just want to protect her. And I want to prove to _them_ they don't control me, I'm not a piece in their games. That's why I swore I'd protect Katniss, I'd do anything–"

"And what did you do?"

Peeta bowed his head. "I won't lie. I joined the Career pack to lead them away from her. I even helped them kill the girl from eight. All for Katniss...but I know it still wasn't right, and you can see what I got for it." A stab from his leg made Peeta hiss. I held him, touching his cheek to look straight in his eyes.

"At least you tried, Peeta. You did something." I shot a glance as Thresh. His face was sealed shut, but his eyes were scary.

"You should go out a minute, Rue." His voice held anger now, I couldn't stop looking at the knife.

"Thresh, no!"

"It's okay," Peeta shut his eyes, "I understand. Just end it."


	5. An Alliance

**The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 11**

I had my slingshot, a few stones in my pack–they'd not even slow Thresh down. I could just stare him in the eye, for the second when all of us were still. Peeta, stretched out white-faced in the darkness. Thresh, crouched inside the cave mouth. Me, stood between them.

I saw Thresh glance away, just an instant. I took a big breath.

"NO! Peeta, you said you'd protect me, that means you stay alive! Katniss, she'd never let you give up that easy! Thresh! You said you didn't want to play! Well, killing a sick boy sure looks like playing the Hunger Games to me! Whatever he did, he's sorry. You kill him, you be sorry too!" I couldn't stop my voice cracking, tears bursting out my eyes, but I kept them on Thresh, "I couldn't live if Peeta was dead, and you killed him! Thresh! Please."

"Why? He half-dead, sparing him won't do no good!"

"Helping me didn't do Katniss Everdeen no good. She must've known only one of us could survive, and I'd likely be more trouble than anything. But she still healed my wounds, shared her food–she slept next to me, like you did, Thresh. And she got herself killed to save me. So I went to find her sweetheart, and help him, whatever I had to do. I'm not letting you kill Peeta now."

"Don't wanna kill him, Rue." Thresh lowered his head, shaking it slowly, "But could kill us if I don't!"

"I know! That's the price of caring for folk, the way Jesus cared for us and gave His life. I know it ain't easy, Thresh. But I know He made you a strong man. He'll give you strength."

Thresh's head came up. He stared at me so hard I came near to falling, but I kept gazing my heart at him, through flooding tears. Then he shook his head, put the knife in his belt. His words came out with force like a tiny stream wearing its path through stone.

"Times like these, seems too tough to trust anybody. Seems I can't even trust myself–but no matter what, we can still trust God. We gotta. Took a little girl to tell me, again. I'm sorry, Rue. I ain't gonna make you cry no more."

"Thresh–" I was so glad, I hopped lightly in, and kissed his lips, "Thank you! Um, um..."

"Ain't nothing. Hey Rue, where your Tribute Token? Your grass necklace?"

"That's a surprise." I grinned. He shook his head.

"Now I know why Katniss saved you." Peeta sat up behind me, "You're the purest soul in this arena, the most innocent of us all. Sorry for what I said. Thresh...?" Peeta raised a shaky hand. I pushed Thresh into taking it, before scuttling off to check on the nettle soup, exhausted and pretty embarrassed.

Inside ten minutes Peeta had got Thresh to talk about his family–he even_ laughed_, once. But Peeta did have a real talent for making friends. I'd had one once, when I'd had normal friends. But I couldn't dream of where the fine speechifying I'd given Thresh had come from. It was like something had gone hard and desperate in me since Katniss had died, like a sword rising up from a swamp.

But I didn't feel strong now, just worried for Peeta. Thresh was my Partner, and really a good boy, but I might always be scared of him. Peeta still had an angel's smile now, and all his kind words warmed me up, like a fire inside. He was even trying to hide his leg, but I knew without medicine he might not last the night.

Staring out of the cave as it start to raining, I thought about Billy Joe Ewell, nearly for the first time in the Games. Maybe he was watching me, with Jess, Ginny and all my sibs and friends. Holly and Jim would've been cheering at all my escapes. I knew Pet would've forced herself to watch, however scary it got. When I went back–no, I still couldn't imagine that. Would I climb trees again with joy, instead of fear? Would I sing out the quitting-time tune like before, and be among everyone who loved me, when I'd watched folk die. Even killed them myself?

My folks would've definitely been watching all I'd done. Watched me staying alive, as Katniss died. Killing the boy from One. Ignoring every warning Mama gave me.

–0–

**The Present. 74th Hunger Games: day 12**

After a bit, I thought how silly I was to mope–two wonderful boys had promised to protect me. Another Sponsor package dropped outside the cave with some bread and meat, so I made a few sandwiches while the boys talked.

"What kind of work did you do at home, Thresh?"

"Last three years, I harvest more grain and rice for the Capitol than anyone in my hometown. They gave me medals." Thresh's face was unmoving, only his words were a little bitter.

"You really care for your family, right?"

"Yeah, I was working for them." _Not the Capitol_, none of us need to say aloud, "Or that's what I told myself."

"Huh?"

"Truth is, my folks slaved till they were too sick to work, and never stopped working. Saw them waste away myself. Guess I figured after that, I was my own man, and I had to get strong as I could, so that I'd never get that weak. So maybe all the works I ever did were just for myself. Like hiding away in the cornfield, on my own. Couldn't do any good on my own." Thresh fell silent after more words than I'd ever heard him say; it was clear they meant a lot to him.

"Kinda know what you mean." Peeta looked even paler than an hour ago, "I thought doing everything for Katniss was the best thing I could do for myself. And I believe that if I'd only fought for me, I would be suffering even more, now."

"Too right, it don't work. Only works if we do it all for God."

A twist of sadness finally crossed Thresh's face. I had to hug him, and say it was better to get it late than never. We held hands, Peeta too, and had a little prayer God would keep us safe tomorrow, before we bunked down.

The rain poured through the whole night. It was colder than the horribly cold nights at the start of the Games, but Thresh gave me the silvery blanket he'd got from a Sponsor, so I was okay. Peeta and me could still never have slept if we weren't so beat. Thresh stayed awake and took both our watches. But I was half-dozing in the small hours when a thin shadow slid from the dark outside, like water into a pit. She edged for the heap of packs between us, until Thresh leapt up like a cat and seized her arm.

"Thresh!" I cried out. Peeta moaned in his sleep.

"Just listen, one moment! I don't even have a weapon–" As the girl reached for her pocket, Thresh knocked her away, and searched it himself. The Tribute's hood got thrown back in the scuffle, disgorging the red bunches and pale skin of the girl from Five, Foxface.

"What this?"

"I believe those things are yours?"

From her pocket, Thresh had pulled a bit of metal with '5' carved on it. A bronze coin on a string, with '12' scratched in it. And my own grass and wooden necklace that I'd scratched with '11'. Before I'd put all those things in with the bundle of food, that I'd left behind in the forest yesterday. I'd known the girl from Five was tailing me.

Foxface stared at me, with her narrow and wild eyes. She was soaked, starving, and desperate, but seizing onto hope with both paws and teeth.

"Yeah." I glanced at Thresh, "Peeta gave me his token yesterday, I left his and my tokens with some food, for a message to her she could come to us. She doesn't have food, Thresh. Same as Peeta, I don't want her killed, I want to do everything for her I can."

"Hold it–!"

"Do you have a plan to eliminate the surviving Careers?" Foxface cut in, "I believe I have four. All three of us would need to risk our lives, though."

"Three? No!"

"It's okay, Thresh. Without a plan, all of us die. They win."

Thresh stared at my eyes, big in the darkness, and sighed wearily. My Pa had shown the same face when he found the fox cub my sister Holly had raised in the outhouse. Whether he knew how things would end up, or he just couldn't stand to kill a girl, he was going to let her be.

"Come here," I held out my hands to Foxface, smiling, "Take a little food, try and rest. We'll talk about the plan in the morning."

Her fox-face was wary, as she clasped my hands a second. Then she gnawed up half a grousling leg in a few seconds, then she curled up under a blanket on the cave floor. I told Thresh he should get some sleep, but he wouldn't. He stayed sitting up, nearest the cave mouth. I saw his eyes were hard, and never moved off of Foxface's sleeping body. I'd only wanted to find and help her; I was surprised as anyone by her talk of plans. But I should've guessed no Tribute would live so long without being very strong, or very cunning.

–0–

Just after daybreak I was gathering berries in the forest, singing the John Henry song real quiet. Then my third Sponsor package drifted down on its silver parachute. I pounced on it, and ended up with a little tub of smelly black syrup. Sleeping syrup. I wondered if it was for easing Peeta in his pain, and if his sponsors could possibly send medicine. Then I suddenly thought about what the Sponsors were really thinking.

_"Oh, we wept buckets when Katniss died_ (All the Girl on Fire fans would be saying), _but we were so glad when her plucky little ally swore to carry on her fight. Only, how can a tiny girl, who seems to help folk more than kill them, possibly win the Games and get us our money back?"_

_"Obviously, by brains_ (the smarter Capitol folk would tell them). _She's allied with Peeta and Thresh for protection, until they kill the careers. And she's already playing on that simple fieldhand Thresh, with her sweet talk and innocent face. Playing on his pity, pride and funny religious notions, so that he'll kill himself to save her life._

_"Peeta dies from his leg or kills himself likewise _(They'd go on). _Foxface starves to death. And the innocent little Mockingjay girl with a viper's heart will live to enjoy her new riches, the first twelve year old victor in history."_

_"You sure got that right, good masters_ (Seeder and Chaff would pipe up, ready to say anything that would save me). _And, just in case Thresh thinks twice about offing himself, or if our girl even ain't rightly conscious of what she's doing, might you be good enough to send her some sleeping syrup? Then she could just send Thresh or Foxface to sleep, and slit their throats easy as that?"_

The lie had brought the parachutes–helped keep me and the boys I loved alive. And it was barely a lie. When I'd gone to Thresh in the cornfield, I'd been ready to give my life to help him win. But then Peeta had told me to win for Katniss–and Katniss had told me to win. That precious will to die was dying, like a broken bird. I wanted to live. Thresh and Peeta would so happily end their own lives, rather than mine–I could tell from all they said, from the look in their eyes. My boys, so brave and good–I could win, if I just let them die, oh, I was filth to let such thoughts possess me!

Like I'd let Katniss die. I'd knew I'd killed the boy from One, killed the son of his parents'. But I couldn't stop feeling it was Katniss I'd killed, only I could hardly bear to feel it, not if I wanted to keep on moving. But I wouldn't have to hold that pain off much longer. I wasn't going to be tricking my friends, only my Sponsors.

Quickly, I hunted through the bushes near the river for a particular berry. The audience would probably think I meant to poison Foxface, Peeta and Thresh together. Even though Thresh would surely recognize Nightlock in anything. All the Capitol folk must've been chuckling how a simple knowledge of plants could be deadly as anything their fancy science could make.

Truth was, it was for me. I would help Thresh and Foxface defeat the Careers, the killers whose friend had murdered Katniss. It would best if I could die like Katniss did, to save my friends, so much better, but if that didn't happen, I'd swallow that Nightlock before anybody could do anything. If suicide was sin for me, it would be sin for Thresh. My parents might not even want me back, after all I'd done–in any case, they'd have one less mouth to feed. My sibs would survive. Thresh, or Peeta, would survive. And I'd be free of the Games that had killed my friend, and any innocence at all left in my heart.


	6. A choice

**The Past. Before the Games**

We were on the train. As home started slipping away, I couldn't help pressing my hands up against the window. Then the train began to fly and all the dark faces cotton-fields and shady trees got left behind us and vanished. I hadn't even seen my family, past the camera flashes–I already missed them so much it hurt, but I couldn't despair. I had to stay happy like Pa always said, if it could possibly be done.

My District Partner, Thresh, was still staring out the window at fallow fields. Mr Glick, the Escort, was reading some plastic thing with his legs crossed. The carriage was stuffed with cushions, carved oak and more mirrors than the whole District. But the silence was like all of us were already alone, in a silver dragon's stomach.

"Um, Thresh? Heya. I'm Rue Turner. Um, what do you like…?"

"Thinking. Quiet helps."

His voice was maybe as friendly as rock, but I forced a smile. He didn't even look, and I was ready to sing, scream or do anything, when our Mentors walked into the carriage.

Mr Chaff went straight for the drinks bar, while Mrs Seeder went to us. She was near-sixty, with light, olive-colour skin. She was smiling so nice I forgot to be afraid.

"Thresh. Rue. You 'll maybe feel better once you've ate. Yes, all that food is for you." There was a table between us covered in meat, fruit and strange squishy things but I just stared and fidgeted, afraid of the price any gift of the Capitol would surely have "You'll need to eat sometime, girl. Thresh?" My Partner finally looked away from the window.

"Ain't you gonna tell us how to win?" His voice was really so deep and rich with feeling, I almost wished he'd talk more.

"Well. Do you _want_ to win the Hunger Games?" Mrs Seeder smiled again, not so nicely. Thresh nodded, like it was a good question. I was going to say I didn't understand, but then Mr Chaff was looming above me in a cloud of drunken breath.

"Don't trouble the kids with grown-up talk yet, Seeder. Now–ain't you a peach? Quite the sweet little lady, with a couple years. Real shame."

I was real scared. The moonshine back home was only good for killing feeling and thought when they hurt too much. I'd seen what drink did to ordinary folk, and this was a Victor. His one hand moved for my hair, I jerked back–

"Mr Chaff." Thresh stood up, muscles shifting like stones in a sack, "You bothering her."

"Sit down, boy. Have a drink, while you got the chance."

"It a sin to be drunk. Or didn't your Mamma teach you?"

"Alright. Don't have a drink." Chaff grinned, not with his eyes, "You can pray they finish you off quick, and the girl too, instead of putting on a show–"

It was all so fast, but Chaff was ready. He caught Thresh's fist, sunk a knee in his face, and wrapped his arm about Thresh's neck until he groaned.

"Surprised?" He grated in Thresh's ear, "Kid as big as you, bet you never had to even use your fists before. Reckon you'll be dead in the Bloodbath, before they can say 'dumb muscle'…."

"Stop it!" I cried out to Chaff, "We shouldn't fight each other!"

"'Shouldn't fight each other?'" Chaff laughed wildly, "Honey, this is the Hunger Games–"

Then Thresh roared out, surging up like a bronco from Ten. By pure strength he flung Chaff backward against the bar. The Victor's flailing arm knocked bottles to the floor. Then Thresh swung about, ready to beat Chaff to paste, until Mrs Seeder stepped between them.

"That's enough, boy!" I wouldn't have stood in Thresh's path myself, no more than the train's, but he stopped dead like her words were a whip.

"Huh." Chaff was really grinning now, "Reckon we'll get on fine kid."

"I'll take the cleaning bill from your stipend as usual, Chaff." Mr Glick grated. He hadn't even looked up at the fight, like it was nothing at all. It'd scared me awful–but it _was_ nothing at all, compared to twenty-four kids fighting until one was left. How would I ever face that?

"I see at least your folks raised you proper," Seeder was telling Thresh.

"My Grandma, Mrs Seeder, but she sure did."

"I'm sorry. However, you ain't winning the Games if you ain't ready to strike a woman. There'll be fine blonde ladies from One. Killers that look like snivelling waifs. Little girls, sobbing how they don't want to die. You gotta be ready to kill them all, if you want to win. Every single one."

I burst into tears. I wanted Mama to hold me, tell me to be strong. But there was just Mrs Seeder, standing and watching me, not smiling.

"There'll be girls like this one," She whispered to Thresh, "Don't look away."

Thresh stared at me. Her stared back at Seeder, and very nearly struck her right then, only Chaff grabbed his arm.

"Cool it, kid," He hissed, "Seems you ain't such a Momma's boy, huh? Seems like you got some fight."

Thresh looked so bewildered and miserable then, I stopped crying. I walked over and stood between him and Seeder, glaring up at her cold, dark eyes. She smiled.

"Looks like both of them got some fight, Chaff."

"This is a test, ain't it?" all my fear was turning to fury, "You're both of you bullying us, seeing if we'll fight back. Seeing if trying to save our lives is even worth your bother. Well, you leave Thresh alone. We're going to survive these games, for District Eleven, and to show you we can. Because you ain't even Elevens no more, are you? You're Capitol folk."

Mr Glick gave a low whistle. I though Seeder would slap me, but she smiled instead, and knelt down. She put her hands on my shoulders.

"Chaff and me are Elevens, Rue, but we survived the Hunger Games. Not many Elevens have done that. In forty years I've seen Tributes that were strong, fast smart. But most of them were dead before they stepped off the platforms, because they didn't _believe_ they could win. Sweating their lives out in the fields every day, getting beaten down and lashed, none of them learn anything but to suffer and lose, and bear it. They didn't none of them have the killer instinct."

"Reckon I could kill, I had to." Thresh muttered, glaring at Chaff.

"Ain't good enough. You can't just kill a few kids and die, you have to ready to kill all of them. You'll have to kill, betray and lie and throw out every hope of heaven, if you want to win the Hunger Games. You have to _choose_ that, and do whatever it takes. If you don't want that–" Suddenly, her old, nice smile was back, "–then that's fine. We'll sit down and eat, and make your last week alive the best we can."

"Eat and drink, for tomorrow we die." Chaff offered. Tribute and Victor, it was obviously his only scripture.

"I'm not going to do anything bad, Mrs Seeder." I held my voice level, "But I'm going to survive."

"Can't survive unless you win, girl."

"That's my choice, Mrs Seeder. I'm going to survive. I'm going to do whatever it takes." I understood what Mama had told me now. For her sake, and everyone's, I had to do my best to get back alive. But for their sake and mine, and the Lord's, I had to keep hold of myself and do what was right.

Chaff just stared at me. Looking back, I think Thresh suddenly looked relaxed, like he'd decided what he'd do as well. Seeder smiled wryly.

"Okay. Let's eat, before we talk about how you'll survive. Sorry about all that, Rue."

"Don't bully next year's Tributes then." I wasn't forgiving that easy.

I ate so much I felt sick all that day, and wrapped up quite a lot in napkins for dinner. I noticed Seeder hardly ate anything. Thresh didn't have much appetite either. As we headed to our rooms, he told me he was sorry he'd lost it so bad.

"Never knew I could get so mad before. You shouldn't've had to see such things. I'm sorry."

I said it was fine. But really, I was scared to share a train with him, let alone the Arena.

–0–

I spent most of the Tribute parade up on my tiptoes with both eyes bugged out. I'd have felt funny waving or smiling at folks who'd come to see me die, though some of the Careers were doing that. But I couldn't help staring about with my mouth a little open.

I'd never seen colours anywhere like the ones that filled the stands, or such fine horses as pulled us down the street. I'd barely seen such a crowd of people except on Reaping Day, and never such a crowd that was grinning and whooping like mad folk. I'd never seen such buildings either, like glass mountains covered in fancy stonework or suchlike. Even the dress I got to wear after all the trouble of the Remake Centre felt smooth like silk. And it was a lovely blue like the sky, though I could barely see the Capitol's skies behind all the giant buildings.

The place smelt a bit like a factory exhaust as well, and there wasn't a tree or open space I could see, anywhere. Not a single flower. It was strange how the Capitol folk had money enough for anything, but didn't trouble to have anything living or lovely. More than that, the Capitol didn't have my family there. Nothing's so good in the world as being near to somebody you love.

More than anything in the Capitol, I wanted to see Katniss Everdeen. I'd watched the Twelve Reaping, where she'd volunteered for her little sister, started thinking she could maybe be a good person. But that was the first time I saw her for real. Stood straight up in her chariot, still and ready like a hawk. Then the blonde boy from Twelve took her hand, just like her boyfriend–his eyes looked so tender, I thought if he wasn't her boyfriend I'd eat a cottonbale. I was still staring at them both when the flames burst out their clothes, and I would've fallen off the chariot if Thresh hadn't caught me.

"Whoa! Um, thanks!"

He mumbled that it was nothing, as I realised how fast my heart was going, and what a big smile I had. Maybe Chaff had been a bit right, though my Pa had said it better. While I was still alive I'd keep on being happy, and drinking in every joyous or beautiful thing the Lord sent.


	7. A Problem

**The Past. 74th Hunger Games: Training Days**

In the evening, me, Thresh and the Mentors had dinner with the Prep team, in our apartment–more like our prison, however big and white the rooms were. My stylist was a very young man with curly blonde hair. He paced about, while I tried to eat less than on the train, waving his hands like a windmill. I'd asked Seeder if all the stylists were like him, she'd said, pretty much.

"I thought you were _marvellous_ in the Parade, Rue. The sense of of wide-eyed innocence…like a little fairy princess. I'm seeing you as pure, delicate fairy, beyond every sorrow of this tragic world–" Heads turned as Thresh burst out laughing, "_Excuse_ me?"

"Fairy? She an Eleven, got soil in her blood. Smiles when she happy, eat when she hungry, cry when she sad. As much of a fairy as _me_."

"Hey, Rue." Seeder's voice was quiet, "What's your favourite thing?" I said music, without hesitating. "Then sing for us, please."

I stood up. My voice wobbled, but then I lost myself in singing. In the true world that ought to be; the lovely place where singing with spirit takes me.

_Why should I feel discouraged?_

_Why should the shadows come?_

_Why should my heart be lonely?_

_And long for my dear home?_

_When Jesus is my portion,_

_My constant friend is He._

_His eye is on the sparrow_

_And I know he watches me._

_I sing because I'm happy_

_I sing because I'm free._

_For His eye is on the sparrow_

_And I know He watches me…_

When I finished, I saw Thresh was looking like he'd never looked on me before. Like a single look wasn't enough for him.

"That was…so _divine_!" The Stylist wiped his eyes. "I promise I'll make you lots of beautiful dresses! Everyone will see that you should have a chance to live!"

"You do that, Carollius," Seeder murmured, "Rue, keep the sweet and innocent ready for your interview. Rule One, get noticed. Get the Sponsors you need to survive."

Something twisted inside me. Mama had warned me not to do anything wrong, even for my life. If I played a dear little moppet for Capitol women to squeal over, wouldn't I be playing along with their twisted game? And what would they want from me next?

"Mrs Seeder, maybe I don't need Sponsors. I'm good at finding food, and used to being hungry, or cold–"

"That so? What did you do in training today?"

"Played on the climbing nets and monkey bars. It was real fun, and you said about getting noticed."

"True, but don't forget Rule Two. Don't get noticed."

"Huh?"

"You showed every Tribute you can climb like a squirrel. They'll have guessed you plan on hiding up a tree–but you'll be starting the games right beside them. Regular Tributes mightn't kill a twelve-year-old, not on day one. But the Careers don't care about that. If they target you in the Bloodbath–you're dead.

"Well, I'm fast too. If I run–"

"–If you run without getting a pack. With no blanket, no iodine tablets. Then you'll be dead within days, girl, unless you got Sponsors to send what you need."

"But you told me I needed allies. You said, I'd have to show them I wasn't a burden..."

"Show me. You've got to show yourself off, without showing yourself; I'll leave you to figure that one out." Seeder gave me a hard stare, as she picked a little meat off her plate. I didn't feel so good no more. "At least you've learnt Rule One, Two and Zero. Rule Zero being, don't trust anybody."

That was when Thresh said a bad word, and threw a glass at the wall.

"Women, huh?" Chaff stood up as Thresh did, "You better learn to never get fooled by them, boy."

"Guess she's a Mentor. Not a useless drunk."

"Well then, let's do some Mentoring. Keep looking big and scary, don't talk more than needed. Don't touch the wrestling or boxing stations, so no one sees how you never needed to fight before now. We'll spend evenings practising those together. How about it?"

Thresh followed Chaff out the room. Inside a second, there were crashes and grunts from a very destructive fight.

"Huh. Boys." Seeder grinned at me. I barely managed to grin back, longing for my dear home already.

–0–

I spent that next morning sneaking among the climbing frames and heaps of weapons, getting a look at all the Tributes. Mostly they were normal kids, drifting round the grey cubicles with closed-up faces, trying to look tough. Underneath I was sure they were missing their families and scared of dying, just like me.

I could spot the Careers; they didn't look afraid. They laughed as they swung blades about, eyeing the others like foxes looking on a flock of grousling. I had to remember they were kids too. They surely had families who loved them–could've volunteered for their families' sakes, like Katniss.

But her grey eyes weren't cruel, or closed. They flickered over all about her, wary without hardness, strong in herself. As she crouched by the snare station to knot two ropes, I couldn't see a bit of fear in her looks. Just from watching her, I was barely afraid myself, almost excited, like the fire from her dress had caught in me. The Games weren't weighing on her like the rest. I was sure no horror _they_ might bring could ever cage her spirit; just like the lovely gold Mockingjay on her shirt.

But she never seemed to talk with anyone. Some of the other Tributes were trying to chat a little, but Katniss seemed set apart. She only smiled for her Partner, but not so often–and if Billy Joe had ever looked at me like I saw Peeta gaze after her, I'd _skip_. I was sure Katniss had a wealth of smiles for the little sister she'd volunteered for. But this wasn't where her sister was, this was the Hunger Games. She surely wouldn't–_shouldn't_–let a scared Eleven stop her getting home to her sister alive.

So I just kept my distance, warming myself faintly from her courage and strength. I knew how Mockingjays flit off into the sky away from anyone they didn't know and trust. I think she caught me watching her, once or twice, but she never tried talking to me. If I'd tried talking with Katniss, and she'd pushed me away, I'm sure I'd have fallen to pieces. I needed to hope for her smile–that she'd comfort and help me like a big sister, the only one in this terrible place who could. I had to believe in her. I had to make myself trust Thresh; he was my Partner, all I had left of home. But he was too silent to be much comfort. Like he didn't believe that any words in the world would help us. As for the other Tributes, they were too scared or blustering for me to sense any kindness there. Mama and Mrs Seeder had both told me not to trust them, and I'm ashamed to say that I didn't try speaking to one.

So I sat on the end of a table at the meals, getting more and more lonesome in a crowd of people. Back home I'd be telling Jim to not spill his food, telling Holly about the best spots for gathering, or helping Mama clean up the baby. Or at school, I'd be talking with Jessie about the birds we both loved, or we'd listen to Ginny going on about the Mayor's daughter's new dress. My folks always said I was a girl who'd never want for friends, but now they were gone, and all my friends too, even my sibs. I felt like my voice was bound in silence just like my body was in prison.

I couldn't go back, but I wanted to, so much. I wanted to rest in sunny trees with my Mockingjay friends. Then sprint down the dusty road home until Pa scooped me up in his arms. I wanted to see old Mr Hayseed the village pastor, like we always did every Sunday, and hear him say once more and again how the Lord's our help in times of trouble. I was praying every night and morning to God that he'd tell me what to do, how I might live. I'd just got back that I should stay happy like Papa said, not do anything wrong, like Mama said, and just have faith that He'd see me through. But as the silenct, lonesome days went on it got harder to be cheerful or brave. Harder to even hear Him say anything at all.

–0–

More than anything, I wanted Katniss to notice me as an ally (I wished we could be friends, but in a death game that couldn't be). I had to show her my skills without showing the Careers. Pretty simple, really, but I didn't do it until the third day. Mama and Pa had told me not to, I'd said I was sorry for stealing before…but I'd had to get food for Albert and Pet. Even if it was a little wrong, I thought I had to do it, if I wanted to ever see Mama and Pa again.

I watched Cato, the Two Career, whenever his partner Clove wasn't around. I saw him put the knife aside that he'd used to stab a dummy right through, and then wander off to get some other weapon. The boy from Four was on the station, but he was watching the pretty girl from One. In a shake of a lamb's tail, I'd snatched up the knife Cato had left, hopped onto a table, then onto a wall between Knives and Swords, and to the rafters in a single jump.

When Cato came back, he got real mad with the boy from Four. I would've been terrified of him looking up and seeing me, but Katniss had noticed what I'd done. Her dark eyes held a hint of admiration, but then I put a finger to my mouth, and she smiled. If I had to die here, I felt I could die in peace now, because I wasn't alone. Katniss had smiled like she cared about me, and I smiled back with joy in my heart.

(Cato killed the Four boy in the Bloodbath. I told myself he'd been a Career, a murderer like Cato was. It had been a bit wrong, but not real murder, and I'd finally done something so I'd live).

–0–

I sort of fell in love with my interview dress. It was lighter and smoother than I'd thought fabric could be; it almost floated around my body. With the little wings like a butterfly angel, I felt like I could get up on my toes, and flit up and away through the air. Away from the Capitol, and everything in it. For a minute, I wasn't scared at all, wearing that dress. But Mrs Seeder said I should look a little scared, so the Sponsors would feel protective.

"Remember it's not faking, because you are scared, ain't you? You've just been pretending you ain't, like everyone pretends. Remember out there, you're a little scared, but still plucky and courageous anyway. And so innocent, even butter wouldn't melt in your mouth." Then she had to tell me what butter was. "I tell you give them a song, but you won't have time for anything but questions. So give them a song for your victory interview."

"Mrs Seeder! You don't think…?"

"Stealing that knife, you convinced me, girl. With Two going after Four in the Bloodbath, you'll have every chance of getting away. Pure genius."

"Um, I just wanted Katniss to notice me."

"Oh, you really are innocent, girl." Seeder gave me her kind, motherly smile, "You know if Twelve does win the Games, she'll most likely end up just like me in fifty years?" I didn't want to imagine it. "But I can't see you going that way, Rue. You've got a real beauty and gentleness in you. I don't believe even the Games will take that, however they fall out."

"Mrs Seeder–"I pressed into her, and she hugged me gently, so my dress wasn't damaged. She really did still have a caring heart in her, somehow.

"Just do one thing for me Rue?" I nodded gladly, "Don't say anything in your interview about District Eleven, or your family–you'll seem like a human instead of a fairy. And please don't say anything about God. The Capitol folk don't go in for such things at all. Please, Rue. You ought to have a chance."

I nodded again. Not realising then how she'd played me like a tune.

* * *

><p>So on interview night, I waited in the wings with all the silent kids in pretty clothes. Finally I went onto the stage, in front of the famous Mr Flickerman, and the horribly glaring lights. All the hundreds of audience in the darkness went hushed together when I appeared. My heart soared. I stepped forward lightly.<p>

It really seemed quite magical. With so many eyes giving me so much attention, it was real wonder and awe that made my own eyes so wide. Somehow I wasn't alone, but still apart from these folk with their violent wantings. Out of their world, like a real fairy; every step I took was ready for leaping up into a tree, into the sky. Somewhere there was my home, and the apple trees I loved to climb; somewhere there was a horrible game of death. But in this show full of laughter and soft fabrics, neither place seem any more real than a dream.

I knelt on the interview chair, back straight, looking up. Instead of my accustomed grin, a little ladylike smile. I told the nation how amazed I was with the Capitol and all their wonders. How I had skills I would use to survive, to give the audience lots of fun. I was a little scared, a little cheeky. I did everything to get those cooing, gaudy folk on my side, short of thanking them for coming to watch me get slaughtered. I played the sweet little fairy they wanted for their Game, just like Mama had told me not to. But I'd even do a little wrong, for a chance to see her again. A dangerous course, but there was nothing but danger in the Hunger Games.

I still felt pretty low and guilty when it was over, especially watching Thresh go up in his lovely white suit. He barely said a word, whatever Mr Flickerman asked, and I knew it wasn't an angle. It was him, not playing the Games. I knew the Careers had tried to ally with him, and he'd said no. I might have a flighty sort of energy, but Thresh was solid as a mountain; he'd held the right way better than me. I just hoped, whatever happened in the Games, that I didn't let myself do any more wrong than I had.


	8. A Feast

**The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 13**

An hour after Mr Templesmith announced the Feast next morning, Foxface, Thresh and me trekked up to the middle of the arena. The wide clearing around the big golden cornahorn-thingy looked so still, in the gloom before dawn. The three of us searched the forest south of the horn, real careful. When I whistled the quitting time signal and went quietly to meet the others at the clearing's edge, Foxface was already crouched there.

"You okay?" I smiled, but she only stared.

"I suppose so. What about you? You're not worried I might take this chance to backstab you?"

"Nope. Guess I just can't get by without trusting folk, and it ain't fair if that's only Peeta and Thresh. They all said I couldn't survive that way, but I reckon it's the only way I could've survived. Only way we could go after the Twos, anyway." It was true, but we both knew Thresh would kill her if she hurt me, "So you trust me? right?"

"If you trust me, then yes. Cooperation is quite rational. It's just that humans can be decidedly irrational under stress."

"Where d'you get to talk like that?" I grinned, "What'd you do back home?"

"I went to school?" I remembered Five was a middling rich District. We didn't say much more until Thresh showed up, spear in hand. He said the forest south of the horn was clear.

As Foxface nipped across the clearing to hide in the horn itself, Thresh vanished into the forest with a last steadying look. I wanted to hug him, but I think he wanted to get the parting over quick. Then I hunkered under a bush and watched for the dawn, shivering. I was alone, again with my worrying and guilt.

I wondered if Katniss had hid here to watch the Careers' supplies. But it was too sad to think on her in those dark hours. No better thinking of Peeta or Thresh, when they might end like Katniss before noon, and I'd never see them again.

But the worst was thinking of Clove. One time in training, the District Three girl had come up to me at lunch, said she was so scared she just needed to talk. I was going to pour out how I wanted to be brave as well, and help her. But then I saw Clove, watching us.

The worst Peacekeepers in Eleven had eyes like Clove's. So terribly understanding, picking out every fear and weakness I had, and revelling in them. After that, I wouldn't talk to the Three girl no more (I think the girl from Four chopped her to death in the Bloodbath). Seeming pitiful would just make me a target for slow, showy death.

I wasn't afraid for myself no more. I wasn't going to live, I'd be glad if my dying could save Peeta or Thresh. But it got so hard to think of Cato and Clove as children, instead of just killers. So hard to be sorry that we were going to try and kill them. They'd kill us if we didn't, but that couldn't make it right.

–0–

Dawn finally came, glinting off the horn, and spreading over the grass. I remembered it was the last dawn I might see, and almost cried to think of home, but I stayed still and quiet where I was. A sweet dawn chorus of birds piped up all around, raising my spirits a little.

I touched the Mockingjay pin on my jacket. I so wanted to be calm and free like my little friends I'd sung with maybe a hundred years ago. Calm, free and brave like Katniss. She'd shot a boy to save me. I'd save my friends, whatever I had to do.

Then the fancy white table rose out of the ground, right in the open next to the horn. Four backpacks on there, all black and pretty big. One would be what we desperately needed, the medicine to save Peeta. I nearly felt sick with the tension and fear for him, as Foxface darted out of the Cornucopia.

She seized two bags off the table; Twelve and Two. Ran for where I was hidden in the trees. Straight away, a dark figure sprinted out the northern treeline. Her knife was already glinted in the sunrise.

I stood up, said the quickest prayer, and dashed into the clearing.

* * *

><p><strong>The Past. 74th Hunger Games: Day 12<strong>

The three of us–Peeta spent a lot of that day passed out–had started talking plans that morning. Foxface looked edgy, but talked with a nervous energy, quick and certain.

"Both the Twos are trained killers. If you're going to defeat them, Thresh, it'll have to be one at a time, and by surprise. How much practice have you had with that?" She jerked her head at the bow. Thresh said he'd had a bit, "Then I'd only use the bow if they see you first, for shock value. But if you see them first, you can't risk missing."

"So what, then?"

"We have certain advantages. The Careers don't know we're working together. Do they know you've left the cornfield?"

"Nearly ran into them in the forest, yesterday. Let them follow me back to the cornfield. Then I went a way round south and came up the river. They never saw me come here."

"Excellent! It seems as if you've got plentiful brains, as well as that very visible brawn." She gave Thresh a suddenly confident, very grown-up kind of smile. He was surprised as me, but didn't smile himself. "The best plan is for Rue and I to show ourselves to the Careers. If we provoke them sufficiently, they'll split up to chase us. Cato won't be expecting you to ambush him in the forest, Thresh. But he's as big as you, so you'll have to take him first, before Clove."

"What about whoever Clove chases?" I interrupted.

"I've got some ideas…" Thresh and me both listened. We agreed it sounded crazy, but we had to try something. Only doing things was stopping us going crazy, whether finding food, treating Peeta, killing Careers or anything.

Foxface's head flicked nervously between us, before she went on.

"Can I clarify something? If we really do defeat the Twos…could we draw lots? Finish all this rationally?"

"Draw straws for a Victor?" Thresh glared at Foxface, then me.

"She's risked her life to help us," I gave Thresh a very pleading look, "Doesn't she need some kind of chance?"

"Alright." Thresh let his breath out, "Guess we owe you. Only my straw would be for Rue."

"Thresh..." So, there it was, he really meant to give me his life. I had the Nightlock. I had to stay quiet for now. Hide what I meant to do with them.

"You can have my straw as well, Rue." We all stared at Peeta. He'd woken up without us seeing.

"It don't matter you're ill, Peeta, the Capitol could make you better–" He looked away, and I fell silent.

"So…three straws against one?" Foxface stared at me narrowly. Then she smiled again at Thresh. "Okay. If I have some chance, I can live with that. And I suppose young children ought to be protected."

"_Suppose?_ If you touch her–", Thresh started off.

"–you'd kill me; I understand. And then you'd have a chance to win. I'm not insinuating anything, I'm actually glad that you've got a chance as well." She gave Thresh another shining smile, "I think you...don't deserve to die."

"None of us deserve to die."

"Except the Careers?"

"The murderers, huh? Yeah, they deserve to die. So I'm killing them. And then I'll be a murderer too."

Foxface fell silent, as Thresh stared out of the cave. All of us might never see such a bright blue sky again, but what he'd said had broken me so much inside, I couldn't even look.

I was a murderer. I'd tried not to think of the Four boy Cato kicked half to death and stabbed because I stole the knife. I'd told myself, killing Marvel was self-defence, but he was nearly dead when I stabbed him. I'd remembered too late that God doesn't look at outward things, but the heart. I'd tried not to think why I'd driven that arrow home, because I'd hated Marvel, right then. Hated all the Careers for killing my dearest friend. I'd even helped Katniss drop that trackerjacker nest. I'd tried to forget their screams, their writhing–oh, that had to be the most horrible way to die.

And I'd killed them. I'd had to do it, to save Katniss–no, I'd chose to save her. 'Had to' meant I was helpless, controlled by the Games in everything. I'd gone against the message of death to save Peeta and treat him, to be friends with Katniss. I'd done that, and I'd killed all those children too, in spite of Mama's warning, Pa's forgiveness, all the words of God I'd ever heard. And all my sunshiny dreams that I'd just survive, without all the sins it took to be a Victor.

My dreams and hoping had been worth nothing; I'd done nearly all the evil I could and deserved to die right then. But Thresh had seen my tears, and he was holding me. Rocking me back and forth, like Pa used to. I felt too bad to pray; all I could cling to was that he didn't want me to die.

–0–

When I'd calmed down a bit, the three of us went up to the woods near the horn, to scout around, and prepare. Just walking through the cooling trees, seeing flowers here and there, helped piece me together a bit. Foxface got me to practise as much as I could for how she meant things to play out. Getting chased through the trees almost felt like playing tag with friends back home. Almost, but fearful memories still crept in, and both my hands were trembling afterwards.

When we got back to the cave, Peeta was awake, looking worse than ever; he said he'd never felt so weak. After I'd changed his dressing, and seen the blood poisoning that would surely kill him before another noon, he started talking.

"Rue...I've had a lot of time to think. I've tried to make good thing, help everyone I could...but I don't think I did so well. Could you tell me about your God, the one you have in Eleven? Please?"

It was hard with the way I felt, and always hard to remember God in that Arena. But with a little help from Thresh I told Peeta all about God, who made the whole world, and made both right and wrong. Then about His son Jesus who died and came back to life. He lived somewhere called Israel, no one knows where it was. Maybe it was what they called Panem before the Great Disasters. There used to be books called bibles all about God and Jesus, with all the good things He taught folk. But even before the Dark Days, after the Great Disasters, every single bible in Panem was destroyed. They say folk were afraid of them. But now all the Pastors in Eleven just pass down all the scriptures from memory. They say that's why they call them Pass-tors.

"...and, he said anyone who believes in Him will live forever in heaven...with all the wrong they ever did forgiven. You can pray, and say you trust Jesus, that what He did was enough to take all your wrongs away. And you can ask him to give you strength to be sorry, for all those wrongs. And to not do wrong again, or love or worship anything else but our Father who made us. He said...we should come to him trusting and joyful as little children..." I couldn't go on. Thresh put an arm round my shoulder.

"All the other way round in the Hunger Games." He mtterered. He was right. Maybe Thresh had grown up into a man in the Arena. But I was just scared and bewildered, with all the childishness in me broken.

"...and He says we should forgive each other." I sniffed, "Be sorry for we've done, and forgive."

I could see that was hard for Peeta. Forgiving Marvel for killing Katniss, Cato for wounding him, the Capitol for putting them both in the Games. And he'd killed the Eight girl to help Katniss; being sorry for her was the hardest thing of all.

He got even paler, like a flickering candle, as we prayed together; I could only pray for Peeta, and his comforting. Finally, he opened his eyes, smiled like he was lying in a medow of flowers, and said how good it was to be free of that burden. I suddenly wished I'd prayed with Katniss before she went, but I had to believe the Lord always does right.

"Thank you, Rue. I'm not afraid anymore. But remember to believe yourself...that God can forgive whatever you had to do. Okay?" He had such a beautiful smile.

"Peeta, I'm glad the Lord helped you. He'll hold you like his precious child, even if you never knew him before. But I...I heard every Sunday how I shouldn't steal, or hurt anyone, how I should even forgive the Peacekeepers and never hate them. But I still went and stole, killed and hated, knowing it was wrong; that's the worst. I don't think the Lord'll help me come to Him, like He helped you. I want to be sorry, and forgive...I just can't."

"Then...please keep calling Him, Rue. Don't give up."

Peeta squeezed my hand, so weakly. I laid my miserable head on his chest, as Thresh stared away at the wall.

"So, this forgiveness...?" I heard Foxface whisper.

"Don't mean I won't kill them tomorrow."

I knew he would. Justice was the biggest thing for Thresh. They had to die, but it was all too much for me.

I wasn't a Mockingjay, that might fly up to rest with the Lord. I was trapped in the Games; I could barely hope He'd ever save a wretch like me. But I kept on praying to Him, and I kept tight hold of Peeta's hand.

* * *

><p><strong>The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 13<strong>

I ran towards the horn, to Foxface. She ran to me, with Clove behind her. The second I was close enough, she threw the pack in her arms to me. It hit my chest hard, and then Foxface cried out. From twenty feet, Clove had flung a knife that slashed through her arm.

"Thanks for the meal, Two-girl!" I shouted. As Foxface took off like her tail was on fire, I ran back for that treeline even faster, fast as a sparrow in a hurricane. I didn't look back. But I could hear Clove's pounding feet behind.

"CATO! There's two! Running!" I caught Foxface vanishing into the trees south of the horn, dripping blood. Before I reached the treeline, I saw Cato burst into the clearing from the direction of the cornfield, and set off after Foxface with ground-eating strides. Running after her, to where Thresh was waiting to bushwhack him. While they fought, Foxface would run the medicine over to Peeta and save him. Then her and Thresh would come rescue me from the knife-crazy murderess I had to keep occupied all that time.

I plunged into the forest south west of the horn, running flat out. I had to throw the pack away to lose weight; Clove kicked it out of path and raced after me. She was going flat out through the trees like me, too fast for knife-throwing. But I knew she'd fill my back with steel if I tried climbing a tree–she was too close, getting closer all the time.

I could hear her rasps of breath, as my skin crawled with the dread of a knife. I was so scared, I could hardly breathe right. The burning in all my limbs got worse and worse. It took all my strength to keep running, all my wits not to trip and fall on a root or stick. But I kept flying along with her right behind, and finally dropped into an overgrown gully. I think Clove tried dashing round it, but I popped out the side and rolled under a hedge.

She tried going through that, snarling in rage as thorns ripped her clothes and skin. If I couldn't fly away like a bird, I could be a rabbit instead. Just like I'd practised with Foxface, I dove through half-a-dozen hedges and thickets, pulling Clove through the dense branches every-which-way until she started screaming bad words after me.

"Just give up! You can't win, you little–!"

Then she dove into another thicket after me, and fell out the other side, all tangled up in a giant net. It had been Marvel's net; the simple trap with some stones for weight simple trap had been another idea from Foxface.

Before Clove had finished cursing and cutting herself free, I'd scrambled up a great spreading tree. Gasping for breath among the top branches, I felt a twitch of joy rise up in my spirit.


	9. A Cannon

**The Present. 74****th**** Hunger Games: Day 13**

From the top of my tree, Clove looked pretty small. I wasn't so far off I couldn't hear her though, or feel the venom of her gaze.

"Just like a little monkey, aren't you? Well, just give up and get down here–give you my word, I'll make it quick. Or you can stay there and starve, but that won't be quick at all, you know, monkey-girl?"

I wasn't so glad about something else I'd barely had time to worry about. The plan had been for Foxface to throw me the Two backpack, and take the Twelve backpack with the medicine to heal Peeta. Only I'd seen before I threw the pack away, she'd somehow thrown me the wrong pack. Peeta was ill enough to die within an hour, and his medicine was lying beside the path behind us. Maybe even smashed.

Helpless to do anything for him, I huddled up among twisted oak branches, and sang softly;

_Hangman, hangman, hangman, slack your rope awhile._

_I think I see my father, riding many a mile._

_Father, did you bring me hope? Father, won't you set me free?_

_Or Papa did you come to see me hanging from the gallows tree?_

_O the prickly bush, the prickly bush, it pricked my heart full sore._

_If I ever get out the prickly bush, I'll never get in no more…_

"That's _real_ cute." Clove hurled every word like one of her knives, "Guess that's how you get away from reality, when you're an ignorant little cotton-picking monkey, and your father's going to watch you die screaming."

As she broke off to scan the forest behind her my hand came up, holding my slingshot. I'd practised a lot back home in Eleven, so I'd be ready to catch Grousling for my sibs and for Pa, when he got too old to trap them himself. I slung the rock straight at Clove's head, but she twitched aside from it, easy as nothing.

"You actually though you could kill me?" She sneered, "It's an insult to the Hunger Games that you got this far, not Everdeen. She'd have been a challenge, but you haven't got a _prayer_ of winning!"

"Who do you think told Katniss about the Trackerjacker nest? I killed your friend from One as well! And if you'd only break your neck trying to get up here, I'll have killed you!"

I thought if I got her mad, like she'd got me mad, she'd keep after me instead of running back to find Cato. She went pretty for a moment, then she looked straight up at me. Cato's eyes might've burned like a mad dog in his fury, but there wasn't an animal anywhere with eyes cruel as hers.

Striding up to the tree, she drew two knives, hammered them into the trunk with a rock. Then she carefully got up onto the knives like steps, reached for a branch above her, pulled herself up. I hurled down a stone, but she threw her body to one side, and kept climbing. She'd be in throwing range within a few minutes.

I shimmed up to the highest branch of the tree right away. I'd had the sense to choose an oak tree next to a smallish redwood, so I could jump over, and climb even higher. Higher than thirty feet above the forest floor. Cold air was whistling round me, but I was still sweating. If I missed the jump I'd be dead.

I glanced at the Mockingjay pin, and thought of Katniss. She'd not been scared of anything, she'd fought to stay alive (I wished so much she'd stayed alive longer), and I'd fight too. I crawled to the end of the branch; it bent under my weight. As it swung up again, I pushed up with my legs, flung my hands out, and somehow seized the redwood branch by my nail.

Heart lurching, I flung my leg over the branch and climbed up. Quickly, I hauled myself up another five feet until my arms were burning and I had to rest. I didn't want to look down, but I did.

Clove was near the top of the oak. Grinning as she stood on a branch, hanging off the tree with one hand, the other drawing back her knife. I scrabbled for another stone and my slingshot, knowing I wouldn't make it–

Then off to the east, someone cried out loud. It was Cato's voice. Cloves head snapped round; it was turning back as my stone hit her in the chest. It knocking her off her branch, down the tree. She fell back into a pile of leaves with a terribly big crunch. Then she shakily got to her feet.

"You hit me and I'm still alive. Nice job there." She groaned and sneered, before staring with a strangely worried look after where Cato's scream had come from. Faint noises of fighting drifted from the same direction. Thresh had obviously got the first blow in, "You were allied with that red girl, right? Is that black giant your ally too?"

"Yeah, and he's got your Partner!" Clove snarled, and went to rush off into the forest, "Good luck finding where they are! And mind out my friend Peeta don't bushwhack you out there!" I wanted her to go now, and leave me alone, but take as long as possible getting to Thresh. I really didn't expect what she ended up answered.

"Idiot! Cato carved Peeta to the bone, he's not going anyway. We know he's still down by the river–" I saw the ugly thought slide in, "–too helpless to move. And I know that Thresh is elsewhere. I'll leave that Cotton-Picking oaf for Cato to deal with, and have a look around the river for Lover Boy. You can sit tight up there; or come down if you want me take under thirty minutes to cut him up."

"No! He, he isn't my ally! I–!" Clove was already happily dashing off through the trees. I was left halfway up a redwood, alone.

I knew if Thresh killed Cato, he'd come straight to me inside of going to Peeta. I knew the spot where he'd planned the ambush, I could go and warn him. But that might show Clove where Thresh was. In fact, Clove was probably waiting just out of sight to skewer me when I dropped down from the trees. It was exactly that plan I'd fallen for with Marvel, when Katniss had been killed. But what was I going to do now?

Remembering Katniss was the answer; I stroked her pin and smiled. However much danger there was, I'd go to help Peeta and Thresh. If I got hurt doing it, I'd have given my life for them, and saved them, without even having to poison myself. But I wouldn't be making the Twos tasks too easy.

I climbed round the redwood's trunk, and then leapt down into the branches of another oak. I started leaping and clambering from tree to tree almost two dozen times. I felt like I'd finally got back my spirit of freedom, like a brave little bird–it was almost wonderful to cling to the branches and leap through the cool air so high above the ground.

The trouble was the first rule of climbing trees; always take your time. Half-way to where Thresh was, I leapt onto a branch maybe ten feet above the ground, and my foot slipped. I snatched at a tiny branch above, before plummeting to the earth. I landed in leaves like Clove had, but it was an awful shock. My right leg had a stabbing pain, and I was terrified that Clove would just step out and carve me up as I lay there.

But somehow, I could walk on my leg; I could run to find Thresh, get him to save Peeta, however much it hurt. As for Clove, it seemed like she really had gone to scour the river for the cave Peeta was lying in. Maybe she couldn't imagine I'd take such a foolish risk for Peeta's sake. Maybe the truth was that God protected me, for something. All I could do was run, as the clash of weapons ahead got louder. I snatched up the precious Twelve backpack as I passed on by, hugging it to my chest as I nearly wept with pain and fear–but thank the Lord, I had hope.

–0–

I ran to where Cato had cried out from, through the shadowed forest. More ugly sounds were coming thick and fast. After too much running, I finally saw Thresh. And Cato, pinning him against a tree trunk. The knife locked in both their grips, trembling between their throats.

I dashed to inside of ten metres, slung a rock. I was so beat it went a mile wide. But Thresh suddenly wrenched the knife away, drove a kick into Cato's chest with all his weight. The blond Career thumped down, but instantly kicked up at Thresh from the floor, knocking him back into the tree. Then Cato looked straight at me, seizing his spear from where it had fallen to the ground. He'd have thrown it right between my eyes, without getting off his back, if Thresh hadn't grabbed the shaft and snapped it with a blow of his knee. His foot was ready to stamp down, but Cato grabbed the leg and twisted, slamming Thresh to the ground.

"Come on, then!" He shouted, "You wanna die before the little girl, stop fighting like one!"

As I crawled under a bush I saw Cato's sword, Thresh's spear on the ground, bloodied and knocked aside in the struggle–the Two backpack was thrown aside too. Thresh had bleeding sword wounds in his arm and chest. But he still had the knife, and his eyes were pure black thunder. The fury in his tensed limbs and bared teeth would've scared me rigid, if it hadn't been for Cato.

I'd never realised just how big he was. His huge back was stained red and a gnash in his brow had hidden one eye in blood–but somehow he hadn't fallen. His whole body still burned with rage that towered above the trees–rage even bigger than his own self. He slapped the knife away, and seemed to hit Thresh on every side at once with elbows and fists. He was strong, trained all his life to care nothing for pain. Not for anything but seeing us both dead.

As Cato grinned fiercely, Thresh cried out, and charged in to skewer him with the knife. Cato fell back and kicked up, flipping Thresh over him into the dirt–just the sort of fancy fighting Careers learn. But Thresh was too tough, too furiously determined to live. He barely stopped moving, came straight up from the ground, crashing against Cato like wrestling bears. He stabbed the knife in Cato's gut, before the Career twisted his arm round, made him drop it, and drove his elbow up to bust Thresh's nose. This time, he got his arm round his neck to choke him.

"…just die. You dead!" Thresh hissed.

"Clove! Clove…" Cato whispered. I realised that he knew the knife wound was mortal. But his District Partner would win for sure if just killed Thresh and me.

Thresh groaned like he was fighting not to black out. Finally, he dropped down and whipped both elbows up, like Chaff must've taught him, breaking Cato's grip. After a quick flurry of strikes, both boys stumbled back. Cato staggered away to where his sword had fallen. Thresh was going after him, but then I heard footsteps from the forest, running closer.

"Thresh, look out!" I cried.

He rolled aside, as two knives hit the earth where he'd been. Clove stepped into the clearing, panting like a bloodhound–she must've run up from the river when she heard Cato's voice again. And now she was staring at the bush where I'd hid. Flicking her arm out, a knife flying from her hand, hitting my body with little, slick noise.

"RUE!"

As I sank down, hot blood spilt over the Mockingjay pin.

–0–

"I'll kill him, Cato!" Forcing my head up, I saw Clove pull out another knife, "Just give me a clear shot!"

I don't think he could hear her. The sword still moved but his one eye was blank blue flame. His face a horrible grin like a skull. He chopped at Thresh who leapt to the right, as Clove ran around Cato the other way.

I can't think how desperate Thresh must've felt, but his eyes were suddenly alert and wary. He stayed on his toes, dodging back from the sword, keeping Cato between him and Clove's knives. Cato lunged out, slashing and stabbing madly; Thresh took a few cuts between him and the knives, but I realised Cato was slowing down. Both of us were losing too much blood.

Then Thresh turned and ran, crashing away through close-set trees. Cato went pounding after him, while Clove ran after Cato, crying out for him to listen instead of killing himself.

It was barely a minute before Cato hit a root as he ran, stumbled forward. Before he had his balance, Thresh had swung round and driven a fist into his jaw. Cato tried striking back, but his strength had finally drained out. Thresh knocked his sword from his hand and punched him to the floor.

"This for my parents, you hear me?" He roared out, "My father! My Mama!" I knew all the rage and frustration his life had held must be blazing from his eyes. His folks had died from working in the fields. Nearly all the Peacekeepers came from Two. I'd seen the shock of how Clove and Cato really cared for each other, somehow; I'd tried to forgive them. But all that Thresh wanted now was justice.

"CATO!"

Thresh looked up–Clove was aiming a knife between his eyes from barely ten feet. She would've killed him, except for the big stone I slung square into the back of her head.

Somehow I'd pulled myself up and staggered after her, loading my slingshot with my one hand that worked. As Clove groaned and dropped, I took another step towards Thresh, and flopped to the ground.

Elsewhere, as Cato rose up once more onto his knees, Thresh raised up his own sword, and almost took Cato's head off with one final blow. I heard the cannon boom once, through the mist coming over all my sensing.

I saw the knife sticking out above my collarbone. Right now, every family outside District Two had to be hollering for joy, except my own. I looked up at Thresh as he loomed over me.

"Don't worry," I whispered, "Neither of us has to kill the other one, or take their own life. Thanks for….everything, Thresh. You did really good. Oh yeah, Peeta….you gotta…."

I pointed at the backpack, but I couldn't say it. Thresh dropped to his knees, then he fell forward on his hands and knees, above me. He was covered with blood, both Cato's and his.

I gasped for breath, as he stared into my eyes like the meaning of everything was in there. The meaning of both our lives. I remember there was barely what you'd call feeling left in his eyes then. Just strength and care, solid enough to touch. I gazed up at his face until my seeing blurred, and Thresh fell down beside me with a crash. Then I passed out, on the cold grass. There was nothing to see or hear at all for the longest time, except for the faint boom of a second cannon.


	10. A Trust

**The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 15**

"So, how'd you survive?" I asked Foxface. She picked at her bandaged arm.

"Kept running until I collapsed. Thresh was hiding where we'd planned, ready to ambush Cato and save me. I think I'd scarpered again before you arrived. Sorry I threw you the wrong bag."

"Guess it don't matter now."

We went back to searching for edible weeds, staring at the river and the ground. Thresh was resting nearby; he wouldn't let either of us out his sight. Since coming round, nearly a day after the Feast, I couldn't bear not to be close to him anyway. Foxface kept sending him smiles, though he'd shown nothing but the grimmest looks since killing Cato. She smiled at him again, and grinned at me.

"He's quite something, isn't he?"

"Yeah." I dropped my eyes. Thresh was something like a miracle. He'd saved my life too. But I couldn't take no joy in it when we were alive and Peeta dead.

Thresh had told me how he came round after killing Cato, and Clove was on her feet already. She must've been too dazed to sling more knives, since she'd run from Thresh, towards the river. All Thresh could think of was binding up my wound. He couldn't get to Peeta with the medicine from the Feast, before Clove had got there with her knives and bitter rage. He'd promised me she couldn't have tortured Peeta, his cannon had come too soon, but he still died alone in the dark. In the cave where I dragged him, the sweetest boy I ever knew.

He'd loved his Katniss with such courage, she should have loved and saved him a hundred times. But it was me who'd hauled his great enfeebled body through the mud. Bled out that horrible pus, held hands with him and prayed. He'd still died alone, no one but God to love him. I swear I loved Peeta Mallark enough to die, but I'd never have the least thing to do for him again. His mouth that smiled for Katniss wouldn't never again smile for me.

I went back in the cave one last time, to pray for Peeta and Katniss. That the Lord would take care of him, and she would know I was sorry. Then I limped out into the sun, just like Peeta had gone from this hellish earth to the world of light.

"Hey? Rue?" Foxface was whispering, "You don't know his favourite food do you? I always cooked for myself, I'm actually very good."

"Thresh? What's it to you?" I snapped.

"Sorry. It just seemed wrong, knowing barely a thing about each other, when we're fighting for our lives. You know, Rue…back home, I could hid in some nook for hours; I thought I liked being alone. But if I was still alone in this forest, waiting to die, I'd probably be three days into raving madness. So…thanks."

She was right. I'd told Katniss all about my folks and home, and wished as she was dying I'd asked her so much more. After that I'd never talked so free, with even Peeta. I sent her own question right back.

"I like...chicken with cream? If it isn't just food, maybe maths?"

"Maths? Urgh!" We stared at each other. She laughed a bit, and I actually smiled.

–0–

Me and Foxface kept talking, as we headed to our new camp near a tiny pond. Thresh walked ahead in silence. I couldn't stop staring at his back; the muscles shifting beneath his jacket just looked strong and broad as the plains. I didn't know whether to kiss his feet or call him a puddingheaded fool for saving me, but I didn't need to ask why. After I'd saved him with my slingshot, Thresh wouldn't consider anything but paying back the debt.

Maybe we didn't need to speak. I almost felt safe as being with Katniss, now, just being with Thresh. He wouldn't go away, he'd keep me safe, until Clove was dead. Then I had the Nightlock for paying him back with my life.

He'd even cut me a thick staff to limp along with. After falling out that tree and still running about, my ankle was painfully twisted. I couldn't raise my left arm for pain either, though the wound wasn't lethal. I wouldn't be climbing any trees soon, or maybe ever.

But somehow, I could still smile at the lovely forest flowers we passed, and the quick little birds passing by above our heads. However much death there'd been, the forest was beautiful; every shade of leaf and bark, with the whole dance of sunlight and shadow flitting over it all. Somehow I could smile that I wasn't dead, and gone from it all. I hoped the Capitol folk all noticed me smiling too. In their world I had to be the broken-winged little Mockingjay. The bright, innocent spirit that wouldn't never be crushed, for the sake of her precious ally, the Girl on Fire. Katniss. Painful joy leapt through me, as her gold pin shone in the sun.

Foxface was called Melissa Finch. She'd one brother who died of cancer from the power plants, and two parents–I think she didn't look happy talking about them. She was in something called a track team in her school, explaining how she could run like that. But it seemed she didn't like running so much as maths and science. She'd wanted to go to some big school called college, until she was twenty, instead of staying work in a power plant next year. But only the rich kids went there.

"That's greed." Thresh finally spoke up, "Folk ought to work."

"Well, I want to design flying machines. Not hovercraft, real ones. They say that the sky's so messed up with radiation now, nothing can get above 10,000 feet. But there must be a way to get up there. I know–no, I always knew I'd have to work very hard to get a chance to try." Her face looked so bitter, I had to break in.

"That's a nice dream, Melissa. I often wished I could soar above the clouds, though I never cared much for school. Maybe playing with my friends was nice."

"Friends?" She showed her teeth, then suddenly ran up behind Thresh. My eyes went wide as she grabbed onto his hand with both of hers, "You two are the only true friends I've ever had. The only ones who risked their lives for me. Thresh, I'm glad I came here and met you. I always hoped before I died, I could fall in love–"

Thresh shook her hands off like water. He faced her, and spoke real quiet.

"If you ain't just looking for Sponsors, listen. I killed the Two boy, and I never felt no sorrow. Now I even gonna kill his girl–I'm a damned, worthless killer, and you best understand that. I can't save you. Not you and Rue both."

Foxface turned to me, like she was lost, and when I saw her narrow eyes pouring tears, I ran and hugged her. Her words were true like Peeta's. I was sure. But what could I say to Thresh, as he watched in silence and sadness? What was the use?

* * *

><p><strong>The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 16 noon<strong>

I wasn't sure how District Twelve felt about me; I'd loved and saved both their Tributes, before both of them died helping me. At least they couldn't hate me as much as District Two had to be despising Clove. Not just failing to kill Thresh and me, but running from Elevens–she didn't have a hope of winning. Thresh and Foxface were even wearing the skin-tight black armour suits from the Two pack at the Feast. Clove could only lurk and hide, most likely hoping we'd die from infection in agony, before we tracked her down.

Maybe I'd end up that way, like Peeta nearly had. My brow was burning, even in the day's heat, I'd felt dizzy and awful thirsty since morning. At least three of the Feast packs had been full of food; after days of nuts and berries, I was hungry enough to drop. Thresh would have to kill Clove; he said that was why he'd used the precious infection medicine from the Twelve Pack on himself. The wounds in his arm and trunk barely slowed him, however bad they really were. He had Cato's sword at his hip, but Katniss's bow in his hands. Like Foxface said, it was the best weapon for hunting.

For most of yesterday we'd been stealing through the forest, looking out for Clove. I'd been limping along close to Thresh, while Foxface prowled through the trees. Sometimes she even slipped out of our sight–we needed to find Clove quick as we could, and Foxface had good eyes. If anyone spotted Clove, we'd agreed to give my Mockingjay whistle twice; once for all clear. Thresh moved beside me, eyes on the forest. I finally I asked him.

"Huh? Guess corncobs. Roasted with butter, like Sis done them."

"Guess I just love roast grousling. Like Katniss gave me."

A while later, Thresh managed to shoot a stray grousling, and we stopped for lunch. I sat on a log and whistled for Foxface, as Thresh set a little fire up. I heard a single whistle in reply, but Foxface didn't show up. Finally I heard rustling in the bushes, and stepped over to meet her, standing on tiptoe and straining my eyes.

I cried out when I saw Clove slinking through the trees, and threw myself down. She might have got me if Thresh hadn't snatched up the bow, and fired an arrow through her shoulder. With a howl, Clove dropped her knife, and staggered off. Thresh went straight to me again, but Clove was leaving a blood trail behind her.

–0–

"Foxface. She was searching that way," I stammered, "How'd Clove get past her? She can't be–"

"She ain't," Thresh grated, "Check the packs." I checked, and there was a _lot_ of food gone, "She led Clove to us."

"I don't understand. She said we'd draw lots! Couldn't you have been nice to her, Thresh?" He gave me a look like I was crazy.

"Girl, this the _Hunger Games_. And I never intended to risk your life over that foolishness with lots. I reckon Foxface knew that." He was talking fast, almost grinning, "Never have agreed to it, I hadn't known she'd betray us first. Now I can find her, after I kill the Two girl. Then you be safe, little Rue."

"Foxface betrayed us? That's horrible. But it's like you always understood each other. You could've been friends," Thresh never answered, he just kept packing up our stuff, "Can't you forgive her?"

"Maybe. Gotta kill her first though."

"Thresh, no! She's our friend–"

"Just try and stop me!"

Then he set off after Clove, with great strides, and all I could do was scurry on after. My head was spinning. I didn't feel any safer than being alone, and that really scared me. I stared at Thresh's back, still not knowing what to say.

"Thresh? Back home, you got a sweetheart?"

"Not no more."

"Oh. But she must still care about you, Thresh. She's hoping you get home safe–"

"I told her in the Justice building, she should count me dead. Wasn't gonna kill, wasn't coming back. You pity Willow Adams, Rue. It nearly a sin if you pity such folk as me."

I stopped, throwing down my stick.

"Thresh, you saved Foxface and me, but I just hated the boy I killed, for Katniss! If there's no hope for you, there ain't none for me!"

Thresh stopped and sighed, still looking away from me into the trees, "You a little girl. Shouldn't ever be here, facing such things–no one could've asked more of you. But I a man, who shucked every bale and watched every flogging they asked him to, and never did a thing to save his people who starved and bled. Kids, old folk, my own Ma and Pa...I hated the Peacekeepers. But what could I do, with all these muscles? What did I do?"

"They were too strong, Thresh. They was no way–"

"Should've made a way! Helped the folk who starved, even stole for them. Should've had floggings with everyone else, not harvesting medals! I could only save one little girl, and I can't hope the Lord will save me. I just ask God pays all the Capitol folk their _wages. _For all they did for us, every last bit."

The wages of sin...I was still wondering at Thresh's courage to almost flat out curse the Capitol, when he turned at a rustle in the thicket, and Clove burst out.

–0–

It was very quick. The bow flew from Thresh's hand, as he blocked a throwing knife. Then Clove leapt up, launched with one foot off a tree, thrust her knife into his face with a scream. Thresh cried out with pain, as his great arms shot out and slamming Clove into the tree. Slammed her again and again, until her foot swung up into his face. With another cry, Thresh flung her into the ground. Clove had another knife and she was bringing it to her own throat, but Thresh seized her arm, and hit it against the tree until it broke with a crack.

As Clove went white and crumpled up, Thresh ripped her jacket off. No more knives. He brandished Cato's sword, blood running down from a carved cheek.

"Gonna kill yourself now, escape what you did? Ain't so easy, Two-girl–"

"I'm not afraid, you filthy ape!" Clove hissed out, "You can't hurt me worse than the pain of my spirit!"

I gasped out loud, and Thresh stepped back. Straight as train-rails, a track of fresh, neat knife cuts ran right down Clove's left arm.

"Why?" Thresh whispered.

"Ha! All the life your kind know is food and work! In District Two we have honour and we have duty. I had to soak this arena in your blood to prove we're above you all. But I failed…"

"I give you ten minutes to live." Thresh raised the sword, "You still got time to pray to God. Repent what you did–"

"What do you think I've been doing?" Clove's eyes were just sad and crazy now, as she brandished her bleeding arms, "This is how I feel about failing my District. My family! Failing _Cato_, a man worth more than all your District! This is my atonement! This is the pride of a Two Career!" Thresh ground his teeth, but couldn't answer.

"Yeah. Your pride," Both of them turned to stare at my widened eyes, "You're only sorry about what hurts you, or your family. Not about the kids you killed for nothing, or how their folks are suffering now, like Cato's. Torturing yourself ain't caring or regret." I was glaring at Thresh now, "You just giving up on winning anything but pity, from the audience and your District!

"You never had pity yourself, not on Peeta or me. But I'm gonna forgive you, anyway." I swallowed, pictured Peeta's brave, pale face, and smiled as I looked up at Clove's shocked face, "I'm not gonna hate you either, Clove, not even for killing him. I'm sorry for all you suffered. If you think about what you did–"

"What I did?" Her voice was strange. Confused. "You think I killed Lover-boy, Monkey-girl?"

"Huh?" Clove saw me bewildered now, and right there, she start to giggle like she was dying crazy.

"Quiet!" Thresh suddenly roared. I stared at him in shock.

"Oh, this is good. This is finally the Hunger Games!" Clove grated breathlessly, "I never touched lover boy–I never found him! Your prince here killed him dead, like he's gonna kill you dead, Monkey–!"

"SHUT IT!"

Thresh drove the sword down so hard Clove's body got nailed to the earth. Then his eyes bugged out, like he'd shocked himself; he turned around like he could barely look at me.

"I promised her ten minutes. Rue. I sorry. But she was lying, I never hurt Peeta–!"

He was lying, I knew it. I couldn't trust him, he couldn't control himself in his rage. I'd never get clear if I ran–but I snatched up my stick and ran anyway.

"RUE!"

His shout filled the forest, as he surged up right behind, I screamed out for fear. It was a second before he caught me that the earth just opened under my feet.

–0–

Shocked as a sparrow that hit a windowpane, I tumbled down a slide in utter darkness. It finally levelled off and dropped me onto solid wood, before I heard the whole structure crash down behind me. Then fire burst out below the place I was stood.

Above a field of roaring fire, I was on a pillar of wood, with huge carved branches. Something like a tree, in a some cave underneath the Arena, lit up by flames. Most certainly all the Gamemakers' doing.

Clove was dead, I was safe from Thresh. I had the nightlock–but could I die for him now? I was sure Clove hadn't lied. But he'd protected me so long. I didn't know if he'd killed Peeta, or not. I wanted to talk with him, once more. I wanted to talk to Mama again, to go home.

On top of that senseless buried tree, I cried like I never had since Katniss left me alone. I couldn't fight no more. I didn't want to die. I wanted my home, my Mama and Pa. Holly and Pet, Jim and Billy Joe. Jessie and Granny and Thresh. I just couldn't leave them all behind, and die. I wanted to see Katniss, and Peeta. But they'd wanted me to live.

But I couldn't go back, how could I? How could I face them, when I'd let my friends die, _killed_–?

Then I noticed, there was a little cage on each branch around me. A little black bird in each one, with a pretty crest. I was staring at the nearest when it talked with Thresh's voice.

_"Lord. Not asking you forgive me. Just save Rue–I only killing this boy, so she lives!"_

_"–Marcus Justus Cato. Born to win the 74th Hunger Games."_

_"–Glimmer D'Aronique. Yes, Caesar, I am very prepared–"_

Then she was crying out with poisoned agony, her and the Four girl. More voices, even louder than their screams;

_"Jason Argo, next Victor for District Four–"_

_"–Marvel Jackson–"_

_"–I'll help you survive, Rue. For Katniss–"_

__"–Prim. I mean to win the Games, for my sister, Prim–"__

_"You're not listening girl! We raised you right! Forget what's right–lose your soul–worse than death! Run! Don't fight! Run!"_

There was nowhere, to run but the fire, and I fell down like the Lord Himself had crushed me underfoot. Mama had always been right, I'd lost my way and made all the children die for me. Now this was the hell where I paid.


	11. A Birth

**The Past. 74th Hunger Games: Day 1**

I always thought it would be awful lonesome, in the outer darkness–my first night in the Games was like a little taste of that torment. The wind sucked out my blood, as I shivered on that high branch, and there was none to warm me in the world.

None to help me. None to say I was a good, sweet girl who'd surely be saved–and how could I be, when there was no one I could help? Echoes of the Bloodbath haunted the woods, and I'd been helpless, oh, I'd ran and ran.

But my family's tears cried in my ears loudest, that night. My Pa, my Ma, who'd sweated out their souls for love of us. My only sibs, who I'd striven and toiled all my life to help, like a real big sister. They'd all have sworn before the Lord I _was_, but they were hurting worse than ever now, and I wouldn't even see them again.

Even my Mockingjay friends were gone with the sun. I was alone, whimpering with cold. Thinking on how that Clove had looked at me, what she'd done to that girl–I had to find Katniss. Then I could maybe believe God hadn't left me, in these silent woods of death.

* * *

><p><strong>The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 15<strong>

_"–help you win the Hunger Games, Rue, for Katniss. Katniss. Katniss–"_

Peeta, I'm sorry.

_"–Lord. Not asking you forgive me–"_

Thresh, I'm sorry.

_"–when I win? Maybe I'll have a long scented bath–"_

Glimmer, Four-girl, Jason, I'm sorry. I loved Katniss, I hardly knew your names, I went and killed you.

_"–win this thing for my old man. Not even my whole Victor prize would pay him back for my life, but it's a start–"_

Marvel, I'm sorry. I let Katniss die, and killed you for hate, I couldn't never pay your folks back because you're gone.

_"–only one winner, Rue. Peeta…oh, Peeta. Peeta, oh, Peeta." _

Katniss, I'm sorry. I helped you kill, I made you die. I should've died instead, saved your love and strength for your family and your Peeta. But I let you die, my Mockingjay sister, my hope–

"_Rue!_ _We raised you right! Lose your soul–worse than death! Lose your soul–!"_

Mama. I lay on my face and clapped hands on my ears, but there were more voices.

_"My little girl–she was always gentle. She won't let that Twelve boy die–not Rue–"_

_"–that wasn't Rue on tee-vee! You said it was, but she'd never stab anyone–never–!_

Papa, and Jim. Their mid-game interviews. I wanted to scream and drown out the wicked shrieking birds in that cursed tree, but I couldn't, it was the truth of what I'd done.

–0–

I should've given my life for Katniss, Peeta, Thresh. What else could a child of God ever do in the Hunger Games? I could've flown up to heaven, but that was just what I'd lost forever.

I'd wanted to see my folks again. But they couldn't love me no more, alive or dead, because I'd sold my soul. I'd stolen, killed and clung to life while Peeta and Katniss died. I'd most likely never had real faith in God since getting reaped and no one saved me. But, oh, He turned out just.

He said the soul of the treacherous shall eat violence, He punishes the cowards and liars. For all the shame I bought on my family, on my God, I would die like a sinner in the flame. Head throbbing with the heat and fever, I crawled over the edge, to stare the fire in the face. The bird's yammered on;

_"Rue! You're not listening! Run!–"_

_"–only killing this boy, so she live!"_

_"–our sister wouldn't ever–!"_

"RUE!"

I looked up, into the darkness. Round the edge of the vast cavern I could make out steps in a great spiral, leading down from the forest above to the tree-top where I was writhing. Someone was moving in the daylight at the top of the stairs–Thresh was shouting down that he was coming for me.

Five spotlights went on suddenly around the cavern. Each one lit up a cave, and a crouching monster, like wolves and men mixed together, all chained-up along the stair. Their hair was gold, black, brown–I knew they were the Careers, their spirits come back to torment us.

The furious snarling and the screams of the birds were so alike to hell together I almost went crazy. But Thresh pounded down the stairs towards the first dark haired wolf-mutt. After a minute's slashing and gnashing he stabbed it through the chest, and dashed further down.

I saw the sleek golden mutt tear Thresh's shoulder open, before he slammed it into the wall and stabbed its throat. He was shedding his blood for me. Or was he coming to kill me like Peeta? Either way, he couldn't save my soul, I couldn't even trust him. I was still alone.

I had to fall into the fire before he got down. I knew the agony he'd be left in, if he'd killed to save me, but I just couldn't stand any more blood. It seemed whatever we did just brought on misery, like true slaves of sin. Slaves of the Hunger Games.

I staggered to my feet and looked down at the fire, but I couldn't move. Something was holding me.

I saw the Mockingjay pin shine like sunlight in that cave. Though the screeching wicked birds, a still, sweet voice like music came to me. I stood up on my toes and my eyes went wide.

God didn't want me to die. Not God who gives food to every sparrow, rain and sun for the good and bad. Who sent Jesus to bless the little children, keep them from falling (I watched Thresh hack down a brown haired mutt, I started to weep). It was the Capitol who'd put me here, like a cat that pulled the wings off little birds to watch them die.

But I couldn't live, I'd played their game–they'd played me in their game, like a helpless stick. I'd smiled and blundered about, but nothing in myself had stopped me falling down.

It was almost harder than jumping in the fire, but I forced my hands together and prayed to the Lord. Knowing I'd sinned to His face. More scared of His angry frown than all the Capitol might do. But I couldn't just keep trying to stay happy, and do right. Nothing in my head or heart could help me live on, no one could help but Him.

* * *

><p><strong>The Past. 74th Hunger Games: Day 1 to 4<strong>

I don't reckon I could've come down from that tree in my own strength, that first morning, without thinking on the nights I snuck out to steal apples and corn for my sibs. Creeping through the sunless trees and hiding at every noise, even it was just another kid like me. I knew I was going against _them_ and their cruelty. I knew the Lord wouldn't protect a girl who defied her loving parents–but my sibs were hungry. I saw them hurting every day. I had to be their big sister, I didn't trust anyone but me to save them. I didn't know why God never saved the children in the Hunger Games, but I had to hide and run and live to find home again.

That second day I headed downhill, until I found damp ground, a pool. I smiled and thanked the Lord in my heart. He'd made the cool water, the little flowers and insects round the verge, the birds trilling away in even this blood-stained forest. And if I hid nearby, maybe Katniss would come to this pool, come and save me.

After another day, she came. My heart fairly sang with joy, but she looked starved. Still strong, but so fierce and desperate, I was too afraid to step out. I wanted to trust her so much, but I knew all on a sudden that if I couldn't, I'd be dead. So I followed her through the trees, hidden and fearful, until we got split up in that terrible fire–the shock and the fear was worse than I want to remember.

When I found Katniss again she was burned, up a tree like a real Mockingjay. Four Careers and the boy I thought loved her were stood under the tree. Waiting to tear my hope to pieces when she fell. She looked helpless, Katniss would die, I'd be left to die alone. No one to save me, so far from home and love, because I couldn't ever save her. I called out to God in silence all that night, from my tree. But I'd gone into danger and sin without Him, little and foolish as I was. In all the hunger and blood, I just couldn't feel he was there to hear me. I only prayed because there was nothing else I could do.

Until I stared through leaves and tears at Katniss, and saw the nest, the Tracker-Jackers. At first I was scared for her, but I soon realised they were dozy with smoke from the big fire. Pa and the other fieldhands used smoke, so the Capitol's mutts wouldn't hurt them. But now Katniss could use the same mutts to hurt the Careers. Maybe kill them. Maybe save her life.

It wasn't no choice it was right for a girl of twelve to make. No more right than dropping that girl in a game of death to make such choices. I should've kept praying. Maybe the Lord would've told me It was His will the nest be dropped. Or I should give my life to draw the Careers away. But I didn't have the faith or courage to wait and hear what was right from my God. I didn't pray no more.

I just whistled, until her tough grey eyes caught me. I couldn't smile, but I pointed up to the nest. Then when she'd almost sawed the branch, I hid in a distant tree and shut my ears to the screaming.

* * *

><p><strong>The Present<strong>

Dear Lord, I'm sorry. I heard you were a shield and a friend to all who trust you, but I never did. Never had faith you'd save me, love me….forgive me all I done. I killed your creations you loved. I didn't save Katniss or Peeta, I did all I could, but I was just a feeble, sinning nothing of a child. I'm nothing without you, Lord. I can't live this death-in-life no more, my sins screaming in my ears, please Lord, take them away. Oh Jesus, I'm sorry. Please.

The flame still roared, like the fever in my head. The birds still cried out, in my parents' voices. All they'd said, all I'd done–

No. One more thing they'd said.

_"__Oh, Rue. Me and your father will love you, whatever happens."_

And a voice like glorious singing in my whole body suddenly lifted me onto my toes. Almost up to the sky, above all hunger and pain, to Jesus' very feet. He'd suffered at cruel men's hands, like I had, suffered with all I'd done–but He'd suffered for me, took my guilt away. And now the Lord himself was singing out joy, because I'd come to Him. His child He loved–oh, hallelujah, glory be.

_I sing because I'm happy,_

_I sing because I'm free!_

_His eye is on the sparrow,_

_And I know He rescues me!_

Through all the Games, hadn't the God who made grouslings, mockingjays and friends kept me from going crazy with sorrow? Hadn't He even kept me safe when I'd planned out my death? I truly wept that I'd ever doubted such love, but nothing would ever take my joy away.

What did flames or jabbering birds matter, when Jesus had died on the cross, for God's glory and the love of me? Taken my just punishment, like no volunteer had. Gave his life for me, like poor Thresh never could. I might be filthy with murder, but His free-shed blood had washed me pure. I'd heard it preached, but glory be, I'd finally heard and believed.

A harsh cry brought me back. Dripping mutt's blood, Thresh had cut down the six wolves and got down the stairs to rescue me. I could see his courage more than ever, but something about the way he slashed about to smash the wicked birds' cages looked so savage. I was almost relieved when the pillar I stood on suddenly started rising, lifting me up to the sky for real. Another trick to keep me away from Thresh and free to kill myself. But God had me now; I wouldn't ever be falling again.

I hung on, until the pillar lifted me up to the surface, and then limped off into the forest. Leaving poor Thresh far below with nobody to rescue.

* * *

><p><strong>The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 15<strong>

"Rue! I sorry! Sorry for all I said, just please come back!"

Hidden in the dusk and the bushes, I watched Thresh wander about alone, and call out to me. I'd slipped away long before Thresh staggered back up from the hell-cave. He didn't look mortal hurt, just lost and befuddled.

"Not gonna hurt you. Save you. Sorry…" I saw him slump down in the dirt from sheer exhaustion, still crying out my name. When he looked up, I was there.

I'd spent maybe a few hours sat in long grass, smiling at every bird and beetle with love. Feeling the wind above, the soil beneath, and how much I loved the God who made it all. I even limped about made myself a little crown of daisies, a necklace of violets and rosemary. A flower for each of my loving family who never gave up on me, a flower for all my friends alive and dead. Some silly Capitol folk had even sent me a parachute with a beautiful bunch of red orchids–I guess they were finally seeing the pure, unworldly spirit they'd looked for. I held the orchids as I gazed on Thresh's glistening face.

"What. Was the point of all _that_?"

"No point, Thresh. The Capitol folk just wanted to see you fight and me suffer some more, that's all it was. That's what _they_ think." Feeling their eyes on me, I stared up at the sky and grinned.

"Wanted to save you. Felt pretty useless."

"Well, you were awfully brave, but I think you've always thought a little too much of yourself, Thresh Robinson. How can you decide you've got to die for me? That you sinned so bad not even God could forgive you?"

"He gotta judge me. This the Hunger Games. The Lord gotta do _something_."

"But Thresh, He did." I was weeping with joy again, "In the blackest hour, he gave me life. He loved us first, he went died so he could forgive our sins, Thresh! We just gotta live His life; when we trust Him it ain't hard at all. So, I forgive you…anything you said or done. I swear I'll never poison you, or kill myself. So you promise never to kill yourself, and don't hurt me or Foxface."

Thresh's eyes went wide as I took the Nightlock out my pocket and threw it away.

"Rue. I been a fool, I sorry. What're we gonna do?"

"Just keep living, and trust the Lord for our way. If they kill us, then we die for Him."

Thresh stood up without a word, he hugged me one last time, and it was most precious of all. I could feel in his arms, in the great strong heartbeat in his chest, He was with me. I could trust him for sure, thank the Lord. I gave him the bunch of orchids, and we sat down together to take a little bread and water before the end.


	12. A Victor

**The Present. 74th Hunger Games: Day 16 Morning**

"Pool's dried up."

I crawled over the grass to see, and it had. Like the forest itself had cried all its tears away. A small pool nearby was gone too. When we trekked back to the river it was nothing but rocks and mud.

"Looks like _their_ doing. You think this is it, Thresh…?" Thirst is an awful death. I tried to smile braver than I felt.

"They mean us three to kill each other." His face was still as always, "Water at the lake."

Thresh had set a few snares before we'd made a shelter with the tarpaulin and gone to sleep (He'd left me the sleeping bag, though my had got so high I hardly felt the cold). None of them had caught anything. We had enough cress, plantain leaves and cold meat for one more good meal, but I needed water. There was a wheel of fire in my head; I could barely walk or stand. I'd found willow bark and yarrow, but without medicine the fever from Clove's knife might see me laid me out like Peeta by the dusk.

Only speaking with God and feeling His lovely voice in my heart could keep me smiling, for Thresh's sake. I still couldn't see peace in his eyes, just brooding sorrow. I was sorrowed about Peeta too, and even more that Thresh had killed him. But all the sorrows that had filled me were only held within me; they wouldn't crush me again now God had filled my heart. Even as my body fell and failed, His strength was burning inside me, I could feel it. I wasn't fearful of Thresh anymore, whatever he'd done, and not of anything else while he was with me. I could tell he was glad to not be chasing me anymore, at least.

"...don't think I can get to the lake."

"Not leaving you. Not safe."

Heaving me up, Thresh put his hand under my armpit. Between him and my stick we could just about stagger along. He would've carried me, but I saw his left arm was limp.

First Cato had stabbed him, Clove had cut his face, then that gold wolf-mutt bit through his shoulder. Without that armour from the Feast, those awful mutts would've ripped him apart–they'd torn wirey shreds from the armour, and clawed up his bare scalp. He was still Thresh, fighting with all that was in him, but I could see his raw power fading away. No wonder he looked so troubled.

"Thresh? Thank you."

"What for?"

I was so tired and hungry, I hadn't the words. I just hugged him.

"Remember, I forgave you. You know Jesus can forgive you? So if we see Foxface _you_ forgive her, even if she kills me."

"What if she killed Peeta?"

"Thresh…those birds spoke with your voice, saying you killed Peeta to save me…"

"Was a trick! Capitol trick." I felt all his muscles tense as he looked away, "Swear I didn't kill Peeta. If Two-girl didn't, only Foxface left. You imagine we can trust her?"

"Maybe not...but I'll still forgive her. Just don't kill her, Thresh. I don't want any more murder done. Please."

"Gonna be the death of me, Rue girl." He was looking away, I couldn't see his face.

He wouldn't say he'd killed Peeta. Wouldn't face what he'd done. He wasn't ready to die, he couldn't; but I couldn't think of killing myself no more. Couldn't say a word to reach and help him–the sorrow my heart held almost shook me. He'd protected me from the start, taken so much on himself, and all I'd given him back was those silly sponsor-flowers. They were still stuck between his backpack and back.

The grass and forest flowers danced before my weary eyes, as we stumbled towards the lake at the centre. They looked so strange, but too beautiful to say how much. Near a grassy bank of foxgloves both of us fell down to rest before going on.

"Thresh?" I took off Katniss's pin. Held it out to him.

"Ain't that special for you?"

"Yes." I gazed into his strong eyes, "Whatever happens, you ought…no, you deserve to–"

"Shh." Gently, Thresh pushed my hand away, "Never deserved to have a girl like you _think_ of dying for me. Remember that. Mockingjay means hope. Suits you better. Whatever happens."

I looked away, towards the Horn. Nearly weeping, but it must've been so hot that day, my tears were dried. Thresh helped me up and we stumbled on.

–0–

We stopped for our last meal to be at full strength, so it was almost noon when we reached the great central clearing. The golden horn was still there, even if the poor kids who'd died around it had gone. The lake was still there too. Thresh stopped me from heading straight there, and unslung the bow from his shoulders.

"Hey, why didn't you shoot those mutts underground with that?"

"Tried. They hid in their caves," He threw the bow down, "Can't use it. Dead arm."

Katniss should've had the bow. She could've done anything with it–but the Lord could do anything at all. I couldn't be afraid of the end, I was sure, because He was with me. I was already free–

"Hey! Listen!"

There were running footsteps–there was Foxface, bolting from the western treeline. But Thresh wasn't looking that way. Behind us. Soft and heavy as cotton, they were padding closer, gliding between the trees. Dirty gold and pure black–Thresh lifted me under one arm and ran.

Five more things were bursting out the trees behind Foxface too. Now rearing up like giant men, now galloping on four feet like cats. Giant savage cats, fangs shining out like daggers. Like fur collars I'd seen in the Capitol, the huge golden mutts had great manes. The black ones were thinner, necks straining with muscle. I saw drool fly from their lips as the cat-mutts bounded straight for our throats.

Our pack were still back in the forest, but the cat-mutts on Foxface were right behind. Dasing over the grass with all their breath, Thresh and Foxface had nearly met at the horn, when a gold cat-mutt caught her. Its huge paws struck her down and the pack hustled round. Watching their boss play with its food.

I saw Thresh stare at the red-haired girl, as she screamed out. She still had the body armour meant for Clove, but the cat-mutt was scrabbling through it. I don't think Thresh felt anything more than a little respect for poor Foxface, but he was Thresh, and he wanted to prove something. Not to the Lord, or me, who knew him, but to the Capitol and himself.

In a split second, Thresh threw me ahead and dived on top of me. His good arm snatched up a rock from the grass. I wondered how well he'd played basketball back home, as the flung rock hit the big cat-mutt in the eye. It leapt back, hissing, and Foxface shot away.

In half a moment, she was at the Horn. As she started climbing up, there was a rumble, the ground started rising up beneath it. A sheer pillar, lifting the horn, our safety, out of reach. Then two cat mutts had leapt on us, muscles flashing like an oil-black flood.

I couldn't run, not even move–I'd seen it. So fierce, so strong–dark as her hair. I couldn't get away, not from Katniss', I'd die for her like I should've done, but Thresh was above me. His arm swung back to smash one Katniss-mutt away. As the next crashed down his knife flashed out and chopped her throat. The three mutts behind flinched back–Peeta-mutts with his muscles and golden hair. Then Thresh was catching me up and ponding away.

I hardly had the breath to make a cry, as Thresh roared out all the strength his arm could hold and more. He gripped my belt, drew back, and threw me straight up above the lip of the horn.

I could touch it, cling to life–Thresh's life–like we were moving with one will, I dug my nails into the bulging lip and clung. Held like grim death, hauled myself over, crashed on the metal floor. I looked back, as the rising pillar carried me up, away from Thresh.

The nine cat-mutts were gathering round the place he stood. Their message gleamed pure in Peeta and Katniss' eyes. They shouldn't have died, we didn't deserve to live.

But Thresh looked up at me once, and I saw nothing but peace , to be stood where he was. Facing death for all he'd done and failed to do, still pulling out his sword with a flash of sun. It was all he wanted, what I could hardly bear. He'd saved me, and left me alone forever.

I couldn't reach him. I could throw away my life, but he wouldn't be saved. I could just watch as the first mutt leapt. Back against the pillar, he chopped their hides like corn. He roared back in their faces, the great jaws gnashed in his, and I could only call out his name.

–0–

No. One more thing I had to do. I quickly edged round to the tail of the Horn. Climbed up on the roof, like I'd seen Foxface do. First I'd gone down into hell, now up heaven-high, like a princess in a tower. I'd still die if I fell down, but I was used to that.

Foxface was stretched out on the metal, breathing hard. Like the pickers who fell down in the fields back home, slaving and dying all for nothing. Home. If I rolled her over the edge, if I got a slingstone–no, I couldn't. Never had the will a victor needs. Sorry Mrs Seeder, thank you Lord.

"Still want to draw lots?"

At my voice Foxface sprang to her feet, held out a little knife like a shield. Having nowhere to run I just stared at her desperate eyes, until she put the knife away.

"If you want. I could never stand violence, you know?"

Her voice was quiet, but her terror screamed from it. I didn't know why Foxface had crept about without fighting or killing anyone–like Thresh had intended before I went and got him–but something made bloodshed unthinkably fearful for this girl thrown in the Hunger Games. There were bloody little teeth marks on her hands and neck, though–some mutt had gone after her before, like me and Thresh. Her body shook like the soul inside was fixing to break it apart. She looked so pitiful, I just wanted to hug her one more time–

Suddenly a cat-mutt yowled its life out below us, just before three great bodies crashed down. I heard Thresh fall, snarling in the struggle. Then he was buried under the roars and horrid noises.

"I got a better idea." I talked fast, "We go down together, to Thresh. He's hurt, we'll have the same chances–"

"–of being eaten alive!"

"They need a Victor–one us will live. If we die, it was the Capitol killed us. Not ourselves, not each other–" I held out my hand to her; a smile flew over my cheeks "–Not our friends."

Foxface grinned back in a funny way. I couldn't tell if she was ready to weep or scream.

"So pure...how can you still be so pure, Rue? How can we be friends? One of us is going to die. So brave and sweet–if the Capitol choses, it won't

"No. They don't want sweet, they want death and betrayings. Please, trust me–"

"Can you? You know I led Clove to you, after I stole all the food I could carry? You know, at the Feast, I threw you the pack with Peeta's medicine on purpose? So he wouldn't get it before he died. It wasn't planned, I just wanted to live–"

"–Then you should know there's worse things than death." I stepped forward, strength flooding the shock and anger out my heart, "That's why I came up here, why I chose to trust you as a friend no matter what. I'm not giving up, Melissa Finch." I heard a chopping sword, a howl. Thresh was still fighting. "I...don't care what you done, if you're sorry, if you trust the Lord like Peeta did, He'll give you peace. Then we can go down together with Thresh, only we need to go now."

"Sorry? How can I be sorry, when I did it to stay alive? I didn't have a choice, I'd do it again…"

Why was I risking Thresh's life to help this girl? Yes, because him and me had done as many awful things as her.

"I had to save you. I couldn't leave Thresh." Her face twisted again; I pressed home, "He saved your life, Melissa. You love him, don't you?"

"I loved him." Her face was suddenly still, "But I don't care if you believe in star crossed lovers, Rue. I'm not dying for a miserable cottonpicker who couldn't even pretend to like me back. You can just go to your God together!"

I slapped her face. Her eyes just went thin, before both her hands shot for my throat.

I could barely shove her back. She gripped my shirt, tried to force me over the edge, but I sank down and pushed back. She was older, we were both weak, but Eleven had made me the toughest. We grappled over the top of the horn, as the cat-mutts' roaring came up all round.

"Sorry! I just got mad, you shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry–"

"STOP TALKING!"

We were spinning slowly round like dancers fighting to keep our lives. I was begging for God to make right what had gone so wrong, when something cold bit my side. Then it was hot and wet. I was crumpling down, still clinging to Foxface, because she'd stabbed her knife in me. Almost as I cried out once, Thresh finally let out a howl of pain. He kept whimpering, howling again, over the horrid noise of the cat-mutts. In my ear, Foxface let out a long breath.

"I just want to live. Why can't I live? You can go to your heaven. Your sky. Earth's no good...no good. Go meet your God. Why didn't he save you? Why'd he let this...why...?" Weeping for pain, I clung so she couldn't pull away. She had to shove me, I fell sprawling back on the Cornucopia's roof, in the sun. Foxface stood alone, stared up at the brightness, still whispering that word. Why?

Cold was in my deepest guts, this was a wound like Katniss had. I couldn't hear Thresh anymore, all I could pray was for it not to be long.

Finally she looked down at me, bleeding and dying. She looked at her hands, flecked with blood. She truly couldn't stand violence. I never saw such a twisted face of sorrow.

"Why...? I didn't want to die. I'm sorry, Rue, what could I do? I'm sorry–!"

I lifted up my hand to her. Finally leaving this earth behind, it was no effort at all to smile.

"Don't be afraid, Melissa. Can you sing?"

"No."

She stared at me. Like I was more terrible than fire or beasts, than anything in this world

"Then can you pray with me?"

"NO!" She batted my hand away, swung about, "Oh, Thresh...!"

That was all she said before she ran. Dived off the top of the Cornucopia. I heard a snap, a cat-mutt hitting the ground, two cannons booming together.

I was alone. I cried out my last strength, and went to sleep.

**Victor of the 74th Hunger Games:**

**Rue Turner (District 11)**

**Kills: 2 (Marvel Jackson (D1), Melissa 'Foxface' Finch (D5))**


	13. A Song

_"...All at Capitol News are saddened to confirm the death of Haymitch Abernathy, mentor to the Girl on Fire, Katniss Everdeen. Mr Abernathy died alone in his apartment from alcohol-related causes, two days after the miraculous conclusion to the 74th Hunger Games. The tragic Tribute Ms Everdeen gave her life to protect Rue Turner, the little Mockingjay, youngest victor in Hunger Games history..."_

_"...lay to rest the rumoured 'Ghost of Katniss Everdeen'. Investigators have stated that the recent murder with a bow of two District 12 Peacekeepers was committed by an unrelated terrorist. The perpetrator, named as Gale Hawthorne, is being actively sought in the wilderness surrounding his District. His family, abandoned by this ruthless killer, are in the care of the proper authorities. District 12, we emphasise, remains quiet as her loyal citizens mourn their losses..."_

_"...fifteen of our best loved singing stars have covered 'All my Trials', with more expected before the Final Interviews. Following the release of pre-Games security footage to the Interweb, four more covers of 'His Eye is On the Sparrow' have already taken flight. Adoring fans have flocked to download the songs of the little Mockingjay's heart. They seem as helpless before her innocent smile as the many Tributes who fell before her charms."_

_"Don't miss the Littlest Victor's Final Interview! I can't wait to find out what's really behind those big brown eyes!"_

* * *

><p><strong>The Present. 74th Hunger Games, three days post-games. Victor Recovery Clinic<strong>

Silence. Something dripping, the tube stuck in my arm. Someone by the bed….

"...Thresh?"

No. Mr Chaff. Smiling sad, just like Thresh smiled sometimes, before...

I shut my eyes. Like I was hid in a tree or caught in a fist, I couldn't move.

"Done good, Rue-girl." Mrs Seeder's voice broke the silence, "All Eleven's dancing for joy and praising God. Even took a collection up for Thresh's family. Your folks are fine‒"

Pa. Mama. Home! I surged up in bed, but everything hurt.

"Easy! You ain't going home until after your Crowning, anyhow."

Crowning? Oh yes, I was a Victor, though I barely believed it, I was safe. And everyone else was dead. Forever, for certain. Now the Capitol folk would crown me, and send my folks back a strange, silent thing covered in pretty dresses and money‒

I spoke very fast. "Mrs Seeder, can you go to Eleven? Go, get a Capitol doctor for Pet and a new mattress for Mama's back‒buy everyone else a whole food store! Get Billy Joe a new arm and find Katniss' sister‒"

"What with? Sorry girl; you won't see a cent until that Crowning and final interview. You're a Victor, but still a Tribute."

I should've known (it was graven on poor Chaff and Seeder's faces) Not even winning made me free. Anyway, how could money buy Prim another Katniss? What could free me from the pain in my heart?

I wanted to cry my last breath away, but no tear would come. I wanted to thank the Lord for my life, but I didn't dare. He'd carried my spirit out of hellfire on eagle's wings–but now that spirit had flown, I was only broken shell.

Eleven. Was my home still there, after so much time? Could I possibly go back and make my parents happy? I could just stare down at my right hand, waiting for it to fall off or wither, like Thresh's arm or Chaff's. Days after I'd reached out to Foxface, then slapped her cheek and killed her, it still stung.

"I warned you. Don't trust anyone," Seeder's voice was harsh, "You'd never be feeling such pain if you'd never trusted. Though you'd have most likely died alone."

"'He who keeps his life will lose it.'" Chaff laboriously quoted, "He who loses his life will keep it.'"

Seeder looked at him like a talking horse. I still hadn't tears, so I just screamed out grief, fit to tear me apart.

"Stop that!" Chaff's voice was deep and clear, "You didn't want them to die, it was the Games! You only twelve!"

They were still dead. Katniss, Thresh, Peeta, even Foxface gave up her life for me. God had saved me, Jesus had died for me–but I'd kept my life. Lived off their deaths, like the Capitol living off all our sweat and blood. I was lost, I was dead...

I didn't see Mrs Seeder, until she slapped me.

"You sorry those kids died for you?" She bent over me fiercely like a kite, voice snapping, "Well, no one died for Chaff, or me! We only lived by killing, starving, betraying our allies, but you never did, and they chose you to live. So you gonna go home and live, girl, whether you want to or not!"

Head spinning, I flung my weak little body out of the bed, and into Seeder.

"Send me back! Wanna go BACK!"

My ankle buckled, Seeder crashed down with me. Chaff tried to catch us and failed. As my spirit went out, we were all lying tangled together. Like a family, but not mine. I just couldn't reach them.

‒0‒

"I know someone who knows someone at Capitol News. Katniss and Peeta's families, they're bearing up. Foxface's parents are okay too. She didn't tell you they were divorced, did she?"

I didn't answer; Mrs Seeder fell back into silence. For four days, I hadn't given her a word. Still bird-thin from the Games, I'd barely eaten a thing.

Mr Chaff had stayed beside me. I'd noticed when he spoke, he wasn't drinking. Dead as I felt, he looked so sad I felt for him.

"Mr Chaff?" Both Mentors started at my voice, "Sorry I never saved Thresh."

"No, Rue, he's gone to better. Couldn't have died better. Better than living as a useless killer, and….dying bad in the end."

"Tell her," Seeder muttered, "She can take it."

In a miserable, halting voice, Chaff told me about his friend who'd died, Katniss's Mentor. They'd always drunk themselves stupid after every Hunger Games. Only this time, they'd fallen out over me.

"Twelve hasn't had a Victor for years…he really hoped Katniss would win. When you and Thresh beat the Twos, everyone was cheering‒Finnick and Johanna were nearly dancing‒but Haymitch just threw his bottle at the screen and fell to yelling at me. Thought he'd get over it. He would've, if I'd just been with him that night. Choked on his vomit."

I put my hand in Chaff's hand. I sat up and looked him in the eye.

"Mr Chaff…you're sorry about your friend? Your drinking, everything?"

"Not sorry enough. Just feel dead inside. Should've saved him."

I shouldn't have killed Katniss, or Marvel. Should've hugged Foxface, not hit her. Begging God for answers, I gripped Chaff's hand so hard

"I understand. Feels like dying…this sorrow. But ain't that the only sorrow that's enough? Dying in our sorrow and sin, to live like new, for the Lord? Like you said…we lose our lives, to keep them? Mr Chaff, you want to pray?"

Chaff's head bowed down. Big as he was, no man was meant to carry such burdens.

"I tried. Don't know if I can."

"I understand. Let's try together."

We did. And after that all my troubles vanished away, in the freedom and peace of Chaff's face. I'd always bear sorrow in me, for my friends who died. But now there was joy for my friend God had saved, and if He was with me nothing would stop my joy again. Wasn't this new life, beyond the fire, a sorrowing heart living for others' joy? Living in the joy of the Lord Himself, rejoicing that He held and kept me still.

"Mrs Seeder?" I reached my hand out.

She was still sat down, "Booze for Chaff, and Haymitch, religion for you. Everyone needs something to escape the Arena. Everyone but me."

"Oh, Mrs Seeder." I reached a hand out, "The Games hurt you worst, didn't they? Keeping fit, barely eating, doing all the Capitol says. It's like you never got out at all."

Without a word, she walked over and hugged us. We rested like that, together and I felt all my friends that had gone were with me.

Katniss. Peeta. Thresh. Foxface. I'm sorry. Thank you. Thank you Lord, you didn't leave me alone.

* * *

><p><strong>The Present. 74th Hunger Games, two weeks post-game. Recap and Crowning ceremony<strong>

My new dress was black and red, a little floor-length gown covered in frills. Little wings, of course, and bare shoulders. A dress for a fairy queen, or a young witch. I'd kept the Mockingjay pin. Whenever it caught the light, Katniss shot through my heart.

I had a silver cane too. My twisted ankle had been too abused; the Arena's trees would be the last I'd climb. Trunks rougher and paler than back home, they'd stood tall above all our bloodshed.

"...remember, Thresh killed Peeta." Seeder was by me, in the wings, "He had to be sure you would live."

I though on the heavy apple trees of Eleven, where I'd rested in the sunlight. Eleven, where _they_beat weary fieldhands bloody. Pet never wanted to watch, but I made her. Every family had to watch.

I'd watched them lash boys and girls, my friends; thinking on their faces, I couldn't even sleep. I'd had to bury my heart in the quiet branches and songs of the Mockingjays, too scared to really face their cruelty. But it had caught me anyhow.

"You listening, girl? Look…three outer Districts allied this year, to save a little girl; that ain't quite how the Games are meant to go. When they say anything bad things about your allies, don't argue, just agree. Just think of your family, girl. Get through this."

As I stared at her, some blaring mess of my favourite song boomed out. Mr Flickerman's voice rose over it.

"...the Little Mockingjay, the littlest Victor, the little miracle! Everyone show your love for RUE TURNER!"

I stepped out alone, into the lights, the mashing hands and screams. I smiled, and all the jewel-laden old grannies wept for joy. I was the darlingest little sweetie-pie ever to win the Hunger Games. All in green, and grinning like a 'gator, Mr Flickermann knelt to kiss my glove.

"Oh, my dear Rue...still smiling."

"Got to keep smiling, Mr Caesar."

Everyone laughed‒couldn't they see? If I didn't smile I'd break up. Their Games had killed all the innocence they'd praised in me. But I still _could_ smile, and maybe they'd never know why.

* * *

><p><strong>74th Hunger Games, Recap<strong>

The video actually started before the Games. I watched myself in the Training Centre, stealing Cato's knife, then Thresh's silent wonder at my song. I could barely watch the little time I'd spent with Katniss, but I made myself watch her die. Sorry Katniss, sorry Marvel, sorry Katniss. With all God's mercy, it still hurts.

The big screen showed all the time I spent by Katniss as she died. Weeping for my friend, from another District. Honouring her before the nation, with a song of all our suffering and hope.

_...All my trials, Lord, soon be over..._

For the first time I saw Thresh drive his spear into Cato's back. Cato twisted away, their spears clashed, but Thresh pushed through to cut him above the eye. Then Cato went for his sword. Poor Thresh got cut twice, before blood ran into Cato's eye. In a second, Thresh had ducked into the blind spot, punched him to the ground and kicked the sword aside. It took my breath away how strong and smart he was. But he'd been fixed to the end on such miserable things as fighting and self-sacrifice. He'd done what he ought with his strength, but he could've done so much more.

Then the fight was over. Thresh was carrying me back to the cave by the river, where Peeta lay ill–I had to watch, but I could hardly bear it, my heart was in my throat. On the giant screen, Thresh went into the cave with the backpack for Twelve, the medicine. Poor Peeta was half-conscious, muttering and pale. Thresh emptied the backpack. It was full of food. There'd never been any medicine at the Feast.

It hit me like a train. Katniss had died. Peeta had spoken bad about the Capitol in that cave. If she'd lived, the Capitol would have given the Girl on Fire's star-crossed sweetheart all the medicine he could use. But she'd died saving me, so Peeta was doomed to die. Thresh hadn't told me; he'd known I'd feel this pain. Katniss could've saved Peeta. Why'd she died for me?

On the screen, Thresh was looming over Peeta, shaking with what he had to do. He knelt and said the prayer, he was sorry for what he had to do. As he reached a hand for Peeta's mouth, the poor boy's blue eyes flicked open.

Then the camera switched to Clove, still running and wailing through the forest. There were murmurs out there, why hadn't they shown the killing? As for me my heart leapt from the pit to the heavens.

If Thresh had killed Peeta, they'd have shown it. I knew in my heart, like a voice from God, Thresh hadn't killed him. He might've meant to, it would've torn him up that he meant to, but he hadn't done it. Peeta might've even have asked for a quick end, but Thresh would've taken his hand. They'd have prayed together, through the pain, until the Lord took Peeta to his rest at last. I'd never see it, but I knew. So did Mrs Seeder.

I was just a little girl, so the Capitol let me have my song. But they couldn't ever show how Peeta died in peace, and let the Districts see how they could love and forgive. He'd beat them, like he wanted.

I couldn't watch Thresh die at all. But everyone saw the ending. I'm sorry Foxface. I'm sorry Lord‒but He'd worked things right. They couldn't possibly cut the final death of the Games, when I reached out a bloody hand to the girl who'd stabbed me. Forgiving her in front of the nation, and if they killed me for it I wouldn't be sorry.

* * *

><p><strong>74th Hunger Games, Crowning<strong>

The Games truly hadn't gone how they were meant to. I surely couldn't see no joy when I had to look in the President's thin eyes. Had to smell his breath, too. I wondered if he was ever a bit happier. Most of Eleven feared him more than the Lord. But if even the President wasn't happy, who in the nation ought to be?

"An attractive pin." He whispered to me, "Be careful with it."

I forgot to say, I had to stand on a chair. The President wasn't about to kneel for anyone.

With more clapping and such, he placed the Victor's crown on my head. It was light, but cold, and so were his eyes. Like a snake considering whether to swallow me up.

* * *

><p><strong>74th Hunger Games, Final Interview<strong>

Finally, I brushed my new dress underneath me, and sat down opposite Caesar Flickermann. After everything, my heart was in my mouth.

"So, Rue. How did that moment feel, when you became a Victor?"

"Well…lonesome. My friends were all dead. If one of them could've lived, I'd rather have died."

Some of them cooed, some actually laughed. So deaf, my truest feelings didn't mean a thing.

"Well, better a dead friend than a live enemy. Tell us about your alliance with Katniss Everdeen," I happily told them how brave and kind she was, how loving to volunteer for her sister‒ "Yes, her sister. Tell me, Rue, if Katniss had lived to the end, do you think she would've died for you, or gone home to support the sister she volunteered for?"

"She would've killed me, and gone home to Prim," Gasps of shock from the crowd; I was smiling as if killing me were what I loved about Katniss the most, "and I'd have forgiven her."

(Inside, my heart was howling. Prim or me, was never, never a choice Katniss should've had to make).

"What about Thresh?" Caesar murmured calmly, "Do you forgive him killing Peeta?"

Thresh never killed Peeta. But they'd kill me before I could say they'd lied about their own Game.

"He did wrong. That's why he needed forgiving. I'd pray his folks can forgive one day…but I forgive him, because the Lord forgives us all, when we repent."

"Forgiveness for murder?" Caesar chortled, "Jolly useful for the Hunger Games!"

"Why? It killed Foxface." The laughter stopped. "You can't have forgiveness or love from either God or people, without truly facing how you've done them wrong. Thresh felt for every wrong he did, even killing Cato. When I gave her my hand Foxface saw she'd sinned; but it was easier for her to die than face it…poor girl."

"My. So with a few words of prayer, Thresh is forgiven, and the girl who saved you with her death condemned? To eternal torment, as the ancient records of your religion indicate?"

"Yes…but Thresh was saved, him and Peeta, because they knew God! He wants to save you‒!"

"Like he saved Peeta and Thresh, or Foxface? They might have won the Hunger Games, wouldn't you say? But guilt and weakness made them losers. Christianity …it's quite clear why it was discarded several hundred years ago.

"Only, you survived didn't you Rue? You had to kill a boy, but you lived. Have you asked your God forgiveness for that?"

Caesar's grin was vicious, white as a cat-mutt. I was hot, panicking, striving for words to tell them how Jesus even died for them. How his forgiveness and love were worth every pain of sorrow. How they needed him most of all, in their riches, because we were children, not pictures on a screen, and killing us was wrong.

But they were blind, they couldn't see. They just wanted twenty-three selfish, suicidal losers. And a Victor so wicked under her sweetness that her District deserved all it ever suffered. I was hot, angry, then I unclenched and smiled sweetly.

"Mr Caesar? I head you want me to sing?"

‒0‒

I stood alone on the edge of the stage, sweating in the lights. All the Capitol folk leaned forward, ready to pity and care for the monster they'd tamed.

I just wished I could see my folks once more, before I did this. I prayed they'd understand. I wished Thresh was here with his bass, Katniss with her beautiful voice. But it was only me, and God had put me here, to stand alone for all of us.

"Back home in Eleven, this is the song we sing for funerals. I'm singing it today since it shows what is it for any Tribute to live and died in the Hunger Games‒this is for all my true friends, and my true friends back home. And I want to thank all my friends‒" The Mockingjay pin shone, my voice grew stronger, "‒that I can stand here tonight, myself. Not alone."

I took a deep breath. Throwing my voice as low as it went, I ground the words out.

_You have to go down to the lonesome valley,_

_You have to go there by yourself._

_Nobody else can do it for you_

_You have to go there by yourself._

_Nobody else can do it for you!_

_You have to go there by yourself._

_You have to ask the Lord's forgiveness,_

_You have to go there by yourself._

_Nobody else can ask him for you_

_You have to ask him by yourself._

_Nobody else can do it for you!_

_You have to go there by yourself._

_My sister went down to the lonesome valley,_

_My brother went there by himself._

_Nobody else could go there for them._

_You have to go there by yourself._

_Nobody else can do it for you!_

_You have to go there by yourself._

My lungs nearly burst, my wounds were open and bleeding, but I kept on. The murmurs in the crowd rose to cries of shock as I flung one arm out at them. Offering mercy; pointing at them all.

_You have to ask the Lord's forgiveness,_

_You have to go there by yourself._

_Nobody else can ask him for you_

_You have to ask him by yourself._

_Nobody else can do it for you!_

_You have to go there by yourself._

Breathless, bleeding from my stomach, I collapsed back across the stage. Smiling at the cries of outrage in my ears.


End file.
